Poem: "Friction"

Speeches clearly define

our conspiratorial edge.

Where'st spoken of nerve

and fiber, toes in glue, that

stick with every advance.

Twigs burn in a distant pool--

quiet memory of a scribe gone mad.

The Nobles boast of pure reason,

quoting syllogisms

with every blow

of their fists.

Now! Now it breaks forth from under!

Twitching madly my children flock to

new graves, tingling in ecstatic laughter

under hazed moonlight-

Cranes fly inappropriately low,

Skimming the tops of our campfires.

The Oracles proclaim an old word

and the villages take up arms.

Too weak are the hunted,

strained in a "war of

gravity"