Just shrug to make it better.
Just work to lift a history
into view; these unjust makings
are all you care for;
all you see through a bronze visor.
Proteinous; a throbbing mass
that depletes like a shadowed dial
beyond mountains that only shrug
when the moon appears,
through bronze you blink and blink.
A mighty racket dilates cheeks
and blistered eyes hide from the
sand, shrieking by.
Squeeze that metal tight, don’t
let the bronze be blinked away.