Tower Birds March 17, 2008
Trail of one dry heart, the desert spews
a Fool with longing burnt into him.
Birds circle carefully the fastness, beaks clamped tight
not a man in sight but the fiery Fool.
“Why in dead flesh the love of carrion resides?”
The Fool, softly to himself.
Madness had flown close by in the sand;
it had now a tower built around itself
[...] Tower Birds [...]