Dormant Creatures
We sleep in the sing song
windy window rattle of
Tuesday afternoons,
late for class and life
amid used books scattered
half-read and dogeared,
cold pizza and debt.
—as the suns sets in Damascus,
some woman bleeds in Persia,
the colossus sinks into the sea,
we write dissertations
on bud brewed chai:
honey sweetened
jasmine spiced
earthly melange
—we ponder the beginning,
in Africa-ca-ca-ca....
the first dustings of
monkey perception
rising from the valley.
