Poetry: As larks and rooks

As larks and rooks

Who would not prefer

to be as larks and rooks:

to fear no wind nor revelation?

I don’t have to have wings.                                                

This isn’t about the freedom of flight.

I move for need of satisfaction,
wrapped in thick celled-sheets,

guided by blood-shod eye-wells,

The electric heap of brain                                            

encased in skull and flesh,

stalls and sidesteps pain.

I am much more than myself in debate.
I move with these words in mind.