why must I make my head so full of things
ancient minds
men walk with knuckles to earth
no thoughts of tomorrow’s report or lack of desire to finish painting
no shame in neglection of tasks half finished
or the dog
a small smile and tail-wag-eager to walk
ignored
lingering between full and empty
the only metric to measure the results of their day
modern heads
now how did we come to be
these creatures seeking
the space between where we lay our bones
stretched out on earth
full