Built for speed

Built for speed

In consequence

Of roots

That push air

Upside down

My stomach

Growls at

Lions that fly

Or crabs

That scuttle

After scraps

Which claw

Will rip

Or crush

This spring

Unhalting

There is

Too much space

For prideful classification

And growing comfort

Now that

Weeds begin

To take their fill

Too much space

To fur

Or shell

Earth and water

Mix to mud

To void

The die

That's cast

Alone

This time

To un-name men

And animals

Alike

Tom McGlynn

copyright 2014