Dan Rosenberg

dementation       the end of the mind
but not mine       governed as I am by
a bodily need       the long slow fuck
of living here among savages
I recognize as my own people

      by thick trails of stink I recognize
      and by too slow blinking in the light
      and he who shines the light also I
recognize       and carved in the sidewalk

JB loves M in permanent scrawl
among the gum ground down to black dots
by my people       herd stomping it flat
and permanent       and above the finch
cares nothing for which of my people

approaches       it chirps the same forlorn
thoughtless chirp to its beloved       then
falls silent       staring      the human mouth
fully incomprehensible       it

leaks a futile placating bird noise
pitched high and empty and inhuman
      though other people passing by will
understand       we all understand noise
      understand the silence that follows