a tangle of city pipes steaming with rust
this malformed pile is a chaos of attrition,
sprawled over broken sod and dried wheat
under the white shell once limped
life that shaped flesh into cages
now empty with all its edges torn
only a pile of artless serrations
these chipped yet specular surfaces
mirror no ghosts or dreams
just monuments to the brutal act
of earth spilling ochre onto grass
a sublime feeling of bodies being meat
and the unsigned contract with the dust
