field of mars

“Field of Mars”

Sleep now, exodus
Miss the countryside
It’s brief existence
It’s nameless white birds who have no memory but that of endlessness.

When Sunday traffic for a city becomes sculptural relief of the Field of Mars.
And prisoners who wished us free build pyramids over my favorite tree,
Now fabricated tombstones and meaningless national monuments.

The theory of two:
Splits time and association by adopting a method of spirituality indigenous to that of an ancient tribe.
Either swimming underground or claimed to be “found.”
The irreverent quality of a familiar flavor.

A thinking spot,
A worry rock,
A triumphant procession which in the present
Is all but complacency

For time and distance considered alike is the most destructive way to see out a window.