What have those offerings
When total shifts of earth
Make bloodless bird necks
Out of people like you?
Why is this pitiful business
Deserted and writhing
Like so many lake watered eels
Crowing like slowly butchered victims
Gently placed on white hot cast iron?
Where is your erosion sifting?
If not on the bottom floor of your misery,
Could it be beyond your attic door of simplicity?