the folded stiffness of
clouds
unwrapping the head like a dome
—3 layers of division in this most natural horizon,
an erect figure stands guard before an army of trees—
unwrapping the head like a
dome
in the middle of the bleached bare field
an erect figure stands at attention
guarded by the thin bending of his shadow
in the middle of a bone
barren field
he pleads with practiced formality
to the thin bending of his shadow
through the greased dark grin of his mask
he pleads with fading
formality
before the folded stiffness of clouds:
the greased dark grin of a mask
speaks 3 layers of division,
the most natural of executioners.