in intermittent peeks, needled through the brick enclave
saturated, as a stop-motion cartoon
i saw him,
puffy like wild, overgrown mushrooms
bruised magenta bloc
sleepless caverns, now filled
lined the bridge of that lion muzzle-
as though they had loved him
with steel toed boots
white muslin wrapped
hint of civility in a butcher’s rusty penny quarters.
He said we came from wandering pilgrims,
arms crossed, neat and stiff
shielding his withered chest,
and it was now time for us to leave.