You ever get tired
of the walk,
the smile,
“hello,”
greasing wheels,
heavy bricks so carefully piled?

If it’s all about the numbers on the dial
then turn the wheel awhile, pile
words like bricks
mostly shtick,
but once in while, you rip,
and bang goes the big window,

bang it falls, and for a moment
you fly, not crawl.

Being is worth
it, all sharp pieces.
All the dumb dumb, then bless
ings. Peace-es.