The Scar House Factory
for Greg Gamage
That will be a glorious reduction of heaven
without the buzzes of electronic space
shrunk to the size of the mote in the eye
then the way our dreams will wake us
to laugh together at the kitten who has
managed a climb to the top of the bookcase
and upside down is worrying a tasselled bookmark
to leave a claw-mark on a book of Chinese history
and the scar house factory is dark and boarded up
amid the cuts and brokenness and the missing whats
of all we held and all the gentleness we have left
a lifetime of books and animals that made us fools
while our birthmarks are the only words we study now.
© 2016 Rob Schackne
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