chris butler, two poems

stone man

A skeleton statue,
his veins pump
wet cement,
churned by his
horsepower heart.

Bones ossify
and frame
extra maxilla
around his
living tissues,

as he is sculpted
from the outside in.

nobody

I am no body.
I’m just a head
floating around
in spite of physics
and gravitational
force,
feeling the tingling
of a phantom body,
until I become
a somebody
with nobody.

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