The man in the hat.
The cloaks where the walls came to corners.
The shift eyed
two foot high
thing that watches
one eye on
when sleep come river wader deep too soon
and the body is not ready.
Ready has no meaning. Never does, but steady
still carries weight.
A knight with no lance, a horse.
Splinter skull and a lollipop.
The cutter slow dance.
There was a thing, for a time that painted
menial work majestic
when the force of handshake meant more
than a wink, a clean shirt, a gym, and a winning smile.
