the tit mouse (able to fly but in dreams) hope-wove
breaks bonds with his levelled society

and leaps to an ocean of hawks

... to test
how heavy his steps upon each temptation,

how distance's become location,

how long the gods allow his mortal protest
(for their own amusement) before they let loose
for their cruel enjoyment:

the brute of the blues

whose art of killing singes our blood
as we watch the tit mouse mobbed
by the vultures for a snack