I am shipwrecked
next to the shell boy
next to the war patient
brandishing the war patent
for george malady
I am karma's apprentice
changing bodhisattvas skins
in the brooklyn labyrinth
I stretch this poem over the void
to plug the soul leak
in the bleeding fountain
I paint hours with art stains
when grenades slip in between
the hands of time
I store my indigo bits
in the nibiru database
I am the watcher
I am the minefield.