brick

i put my ear to the brick
and hear no crashing waves
only birdsong overwhelming the piazza
with avian thunder

confusing the wayward tower
shrouded with scaffolding
of unhurried tourists
cold and wondering

what is the pain of lifebreath
hurrying through veins
of viper eyes relaxed and reading
omens of night without stars

poison at the mountain top
streams rocks watered-out campfires 
a cool breeze through the trees
befuddled and snoozing

the murderous hands
slice crusty loaves of bread
and never give hunger
a second chance

​— oakland
   november 2018