Quiet Violence

She began the loop. Urgent with calculations. Pussy times penis squared. The end of the world.

One stone. Dropped. Into the river. Not to know where it would go. Vigilant orphans. On a quest. Back to the womb. The same as every dick. And each of its million sperm.

Life begins where it ends. And vice versa. The snake oils I have bought. May have made no difference in my condition. But, oh, the progress.

Swallowing the moon. In heavy shot glasses. Talking to the wolf. In hushed snarls. His fangs. More consequence than threat. As I bury the dead pigs. And inhabit their empty houses.

Rattling the sleeping child. Trying to wake her. Before the prince can plant his kiss. Submitting to the course. The fragile knit of time. Trying us on. Human sweaters. Insufficient. In this endless winter.

Gods found in the smallest corners. Weak enough to manipulate.

But it's already done. This mirror. Hot with our breath. Broken with our fists.