The sky is climbing and no one watches

it's slow descent into the ground

gravediggers feel cramped in this massive

jumbling of the soul

the solitary cell of the new cities

bangs against bulletproof windows

no echo rings in this birdless weather

and I feel cold in my five layers of oblivion

the parakeet I bought in the market last month

is afraid to speak, the sun

is too far for clouds.