Hours, clouds, ghosts
merge.
The life I saw all about
me, not human. There are orders
of beings.
I am incompetent, stupid. How
should a man work when a demon has walked
beside him?
I
do not admit
it, do
not continue
so.
I often find it bitter,
too severe to hold
a fiction of their order
that others taught.
Too simple to receive some version
of their order. Leave it.
The foulest of
all those I glimpsed
in the muster
circled once, blew fire.
Not
deliberate.
Stupid, mediumistic:
cancel.
How could I not waste myself,
not willing to turn into fire,
coil myself
to join those I glimpsed
mustering in the heat.
Haze hedge.
So tired of being their medium.
How the fuck am I to offer myself,
not willing?