Our Scapegoat (Written August 8, 2009)

and what he is
is a whisper
a formation from our consciousness
on the patterned rug
dire~fear your possessions lifted away
and here holy
surrounded I look up to see
experience
floating only in narration
of my sole emotion
pieces of echo still forming
and will you starve
and join the dance?
I left my power in plenty
and pools of resources
unseen and safe
and expiration of breath
on sojourn leaving fungal
hallucinations of being
in cabin for fever of written banter
explained to one
esoterically
I write~and still live