Der Bindestrich

Consonants divided by continents
drawn from stormy sleeves make like ink
in their Yakuza run

from the truth of empire: how the heart
blows in like a wind, leaves like a breath
and fluffs the entire set

like a dutiful son.

Daddy und frau, look at me now;
prostrate on posters trodden under
the hooves of a herded crowd,

under funds it took your life to scrounge;
hyphens piled high like stakes mark the shallow
ground dried tears

swallowed down.

From what can be surveyed, it takes
a Gunter’s Chain of men to behold
my Philadelphia Rod; and just as many

to make the reach-around. Acreages of aches
compensate with blood-bountiful fate
for the mark Cain offered to sell which you

chose freely to take.