it drips with animal thickness

They are there, we are here
and the image of both drips

with animal thickness—they are
better off without us for we

dream the long, long, short,
long of it—we dream broken

and halved, oh lord, half
of us are not concerned

with the other—in the heavy
and tight of things left

unsaid, in the long, long,
short, long of it, do we deviate

from habit when threatened?
Do they threaten us by reminding

us of who we are without
our beepy, buzzy devices?

Pose and hold it, a chance to
capitalize (with care) on the

moment, a chance to fill-in an
image of strength although

it’s improbable, even diminishing.
They are there, a glimpse

of what might come to be (for us)
since we are them minus the accents

or minus the mudslides or minus
the rituals but no less better off

when speaking of how we inhabit
this animal thickness. Oh lord,

half of me is looking not having
found what looking can do.

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