A REQUEST TO THE DRIVER

And the Sons of God

Light the burden of kin aflame. Before the sins of earthly sons

And daughters are licked

With sandpaper the course of heaven,

A chore is remembered on

The Wheel of Time

In memory of mothers, once pure

Before taken by the Sons with a bow to the earth’s wavering

Humility.

Before man is will, free to part

A mirage from the heat. In marriages, too

An attempt to unify doubles

The fall of the divine

Axed into a staff and buried to bore

The roots of want. Evidence

Suggests faulty wiring is an abyss

In God, where men are tossed in execution. Executively, children wake in the cavern

To peering faces of concern. They learn to discern the desires arranged on them,

Projected from, onto. A maze materializes in gradients from the start

Of wonder’s passing. The production raises a curtain of maize in fornication resembling nourishment;

The Spirit watches by a thread.

If willed, a pull stops

The Wheel.