we wake up we hatch from oval little eggs until terms come to end and we are led by the wing to little cones where our heads would fit and crack our little bones.

sleepless time comes around when father protects our sons pictutres and pictures and backs against the wall. where have you got to look? what are you hoping to find? Take our hands and rest on our skinny little laps. we will try to stop them from taking our sons (15.11.00 -our camera shyness) we stand here (15.11.00 -in our bare feet) dad stands still Issac holds the knife Tanks and Turtlebacks And Talk and Talk all brushes past the wall and covered with pictures of little job holders and pinkish eyes.

tis the season to forgive so we'll cut off a chicken just another one from a big growing pile. after all they come out of little oval eggs prepacked and ready.

They grow on trees and in streetcorners, in carton boxes, sometimes in alleys and sometimes in appartments in middlefloors. They are oiled with liquor and sleeping pills They are beaten and ready, for when time and call comes for their natural use.

And there is one for every child (15.11.00 -brought, dragged, tought) waiting with his dad for every priest for every monk. And we are grown for every beast for every murder for every alcohol soaked fight. And there is one.

one for me and you one for friends and relatives one for random people on the street. One for a voice never heard one for the ladders we build one for eternity.

And we grow for angels for demons for birds for people for fathers for their children. and they are each saved for every soldier every documentation every bruised wife every gun stuck to every temple every suicide attempt every success every hole every stain every redcell every oxygencell every atom every electron cruising every idea every life.

* * *

And then we crawl back deep into our oval eggs re-cover ourselves with feathers and goo from our parents' generation blood and it will keep us fed and drunk well enough for another stone cold year. We cover ourselves for yet another round and we say goodnight.

(15.11.00-

it's been a while since and what a beautiful flow we see now after we've plowed and seeded another generati0n and we're so proud of our chickens there's a beautiful cloud of flying