Deaf

Vying for space with no mud
slap down a micro fiber sleeping bag
very well, mash it into the ground
ponder a long adulthood of 30 years
lounge with campers who can't hear
a chunk a nobel peace prize around my neck
max out the philanthropy ye hopeful
instead of a ski trip, a cancun spring break
a holiday
this is mine

come to fruition oh butcher of leeches
oh child of hurtful exclusion
we mused over the error of assuming dull wit
biking through the forests they move
with nite gloss, their eyes sharper
only 4 senses

watch out for that tree,
Chief Muhammad Algonquin of the Knoll
i am your valet for these weeks
let your bony child's hands
hem the holes in my heart