what was life, before i joined it
if not a picture on a wall
waiting in a watery ball
for lab rats to probe it for cheese

like many, i am haunted
by what i've read in a history book
a priest at a zoo giving the monkeys a second look
aged questions drown in fresh saliva

to reconsider, honestly, the man
that looks each morning at me, grinning
half naked, half broken, half dreaming
when he stops looking, i stop living