Look at Us Twice

Each time the movement advanced forward through the barricade the distraction
was annoyed until the badges sold and the news picked up
the feed of less confluence from yesterday’s
intersectional description of it, life
changing for the most part unheard of missing
parts of the climbers and naturists wandering without picks, which worked well
at the bottom of the valley that had no need to be creating a dynasty
of what should really be more correct and roped
than most, this growing afterwards, the lunch perhaps being past time as it causes discomfort, though not the interesting
or progressive kind we are learning from for our children’s sake without
much care for what is dying off. Though wait a minute, as there is

a concern it just couldn’t dare appear that way
to those dying with their old money, shillings
amounting to nothing unless you appear to be articulating yourself
from skin that is falling away with love—for love—
for future sculptures: pots of it. We are aware we build worlds and systems
based on our childish games and we are undoing
everything we bought into when we were poor, the books seeming to let us climb
down again if we are only quiet. What do we see from here?
Ourselves with a lot of echoes; though we cannot explain the walls
when they are clear to us: come on. You know by now.
When we haven’t a thought you don’t look at us twice; and it is from there
that we want you to be happy.