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It’s a habit by now
head bent
at four a.m., the birds wake
to complain
they do this cackling in
forgotten dialects of the poor
yesterday’s count was thirty-one-thousand
as if longing for more
the morning news will bring
more bodies to the surface
counting is one way
of thinning the eye
to a diet of faith
someone says if there’s divine justice
it favors solid foundations
mud & rock slip through ...’s fingers
we can discuss this at length
but if prayers are shouts
pain is the lost argument