Only Human (draft)

I come away
from the back doors
all in rows [graves]

escaping
their untimely lure
to taste the rain...

there is peace
in the green slopes
that haunts me.

Black cars,
tin tombs to take away
the living to temporary
homes, mud moves

through space. The clock
ticking. Always ticking
as he died...

I am alive
in his room
hearing sounds-

an alien observer,
an inanimate stone
with plastic ears-

a peeping Tom
addicted to the sight
of flesh, or

what flesh
means when it ceases
to breathe.

It is not unique, death.
Nor is birth, for that matter;
it happens everywhere....

a new cry,
a final groan

similiar [fragments
of the impossible]

We are
only human.