ain’t we the fauna here? The coloring,

the surrounded, the exposed. Why these indoors

portend no safety for the latched, the handcuffed, the confined.


seen and herd; scene and not heard.

Sun dialed noon high: endured.

the ground crush of human darkness: survived.


the fauna slip through rust splotched bars

paroled to a non-forgiveness. Brown, desiccate

leaf absolution for a system’s crimes.


8 minutes 46 seconds a kneecap braise smoke Texas

neck bone, refried noose backs into an afternoon run.

Hunt, hack, shoot, snap, pixel, vimeo, the viral rewinds;


The fauna bear witness.


The fauna, the ones who make the sun

worth every one’s time. One thousand years from now,

will be here to testify. The middle, the mulch,


the muddled, the mulled over. We are the vine,

the path, the trod. The Vineyard, the prelude, the premise

to generations and generations of altered states.


when they come for us we will tell them.

We are the fauna here. Find your place!

We will show you, where it is, you belong.