Scales Measure Former Persons

Zap. Zither bruises 
callous, calling us to
pre-position our
selves in the re
peat bog, the mud
sog, cogged up in
the sand machine
where perpetuity 
motions for an
other definition of for
ever, on the eve of a 
jam, the sieve of a 
dam, the hydro
elected city of salmon
egging on the purported
bears to divide their people
into the living longer and the
digested. An instrumental 
series of claws, scissors at 
the fatal threads, quilting
the dead with the kind 
of rhythm anyone
would die for.