noT Thumbs

not thumbs

nor brains with clever tools

nor legs to grind our spines

just as they rush us towards the speed of survey

not mandibles or larynxes or hairless cheeks

nor stones rounds flames

nor the medley of the pot

not numbers or letters

nor lines for the plow and measure

not the shapes suggesting

of stone or metal, wood or clay

not painted walls

nor painted air

not country or creed

or place or chance

not sheep or cows or caribou

not the organelles that move in self-sure machinations

not moon or star

not roof or wall

nor port of come and calling

nor joy before the fall or falling

but 

for love of something slowly dying

in this there is our great defining.