Daily ablutions 

The silt of spiritual indignation 

Seeps into the pores, leaving a film

The eye of providence is a delta 

Where Styx meets the ocean of sorrow
The buttered skin of a quetzal

About to be roasted on a spit

Trading flight feathers for currency 

A Faustian bargain for the root of all evil
12 feathers for this phone and 30 for that TV

Dressing in leather to hide the pluck holes

And to remember that there are worse bargains

Frying pan or fire, no one dies in their sleep
The aspirant clocks out at the mine’s mouth

Pretending with sooty face and black lung

That the diamond called the American Dream

Is within gnarled and arthritic hands
Go home to hearth and family

Who dream of feathered boas and cruises

Climb into the steamy shower

Pine needle brush and loam exfoliant 
The handshake still felt

The sky a constant reminder

Ink and paper or keys and screen

Remember what it was once like
To fly

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