sleep at the church doorway
sometimes shelter arrives
and when you die
a human will eventually find you
but no one will bother
to touch your shoulder
for a while to see if you’re still alive
unless you’re well dressed
the dirtier your garments
the colder your corpse
will become
before being shoved
into a metal drawer
then incinerated
and then you’ll win dignity
as a nobody
a nothing equal
to all nothing

seeping into being

mountain cloven
river poisoned
fields burnt

and the ocean strikes fear
into the heart
that lump that blob
that forces blood
through passageways
into memories
broken almost dead memories

but yes memories memories of forests
the sage the timeless leaves
of wisdom of past thoughts
seeping into being