“The pace of ferocity”
Night winds rush faces
Fabric or fur covers heads
Faces streaked with a ferocity of hatred.
Names called. Each one uglier
Names called. Each one mis
Pro Nounced. Mis represented
These world(s) live we in.
Feral howling the full wolf moon
Departing as grandly as the harvest moon
Arriving with harvest a deceptive harmony.
Oh this lingering heaviness, these amazing feats.
Feasts in memory-made last days—marks of woe
Death haunted man on side street,
Boy on sidewalk, young girl at door
Boy in a park. Boy in a park.
Marks of madness. Marks of woe.
Bearable a year of expected sadness
And then unexpected torments
Witness the un raveling of spirits
As the round earth spins.