One Life, Hold the Glamour

Unconscious on a cot 
          of fabric and faux feathers 
a brown pink charcoal mammal  
          dreams she isn't bolted in place 
          but needs to journey 
                   doorways as far 
                             as time can tell. 

The geosphere that holds her 
          cranks a crescent of light 
                    into her day 
          and she is conscious. 

She boils and filters badly broken beans 
          and sips their broth. 

After pumping liquid fossil fern 
          into a piston-powered personal transport 
                   welded in Hiroshima 
          she locates as yesterday 
                   the concrete cube with melted silica light traps 
                            where she inputs 
                                     ones and zeros 
                            into a glowing abacus 
                   in order to have the means to stay alive 

With bones stuck in her mouth forever 
          she crushes a chunk 
                   of fellow mammal again and again 
          and lets the sustenance 
                            greased by grapes 
                                     gone wrong in 1982. 

She reads black letters 
          off sheets of pulp 
          left in front of a doorway or on a shelf 
and finds herself bolted in place 
          looking at the evening's ones and zeros. 

Releasing mammals and grapes from her body 
          and remembering to brush her mouth bones 
                    again she again once again 
unconscious on a cot 
          of fabric and faux feathers. 




                        - Richard Hacken