Collapse

The jaw hangs open
to take all it can;
to fill out the secrets
and build up the cracks
that form, in those desert days
on Death Valley’s plains
where the snakes rush the waterwall
and men long for rain, when
the cloudless skies are covered
and they feel naught but winds
that pull at the strings
that are left of who they were,
opening up the ignorance
that cracks open the earth
to collapse
on their waiting heads
because they never did see
the end.