Down the dulcimer hammer

working joints bending to abrasion
like sick puppies in your lower back
your mind bought and under construction
from a corporate alliance unconcerned with plasticity
shattered limbic system on patrol in the orphan streets
here there is no such thing as camouflage

your dated hour tilting in opposition
like a spouse who demands to control you
and take from you everything you have
past the point of sanity of joined witnesses
where God can find you in the plows
that all the peoples shun with their honor