Grasp Through to Toe Reflex

So high and the world is rotten,
So high and the world is rotten; and
You could save it! You could save them all!
But then so low. There’s thirteen of you
In the mirror, behind glass, talking nothing,
Irrational hope, finger-pointing,
Monologues at friends with no ears. You think
You are thinking—you’re afraid stiff: you hate
Me me me for that. You read Plato
At strangers: “You’re asleep!” You’re kept warm
By other strangers who watch, wait for you
A lifetime to pick a tin of soup, your readers
And cookers not communicating before 5am: another body
Does not ask, does not know you will forget, remember,
Forget only as they’re speechless
Also with it all. Both your hands
Will now go over the keypad
And God; you’ll doubt nightly before there’s silence
If you’re lucky. Then you go back down
In the world as one. Where was the
Fire? What did you save? You stare back.