Parading

he recited poems as he tried turning into a bird

I’m martyr to a motion not my own;

pursued in turn as they reached the precipice

As when a set mind, blessed by doubt,

turning to me, sad and beautiful

everything’s negotiable

rich with intensifiers, and adverbs fell

Pay out your 125 bucks and find out the world

myself. Give me weapons

As if a cock crowed past the edge of the world,