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Wind masked voices
nothing like what I imagined
made us sound like children
The desperate and tired attempts
no motivation
no goals
just John reminding me of what he did by 40
Even someone so grotesquely twisted
in form and fact
who scratched like dust
in the public eye
could die with more
than I and most
can claim together
a world changed
for better
for worse
for two-hundred, ninety-nine thousand
lost
forgotten
overshadowed
by angels, devils, and direct-response heart disease
soldiers
dead in a truck
with not enough space
for their names
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The Odd Circuit
