as dust grows in shadow
so a man retreats into himself
and sometimes he queries
where would he wander
were he the last living thing
on this cold rock, formed from
sweat, bone, blood and salt?
to take leave of his lovers
to take up the tools, the brushes,
the paints, the weapons and
the words left behind by every
artisan and sadist who fought
tooth and nail to leave some
dent upon the iron chin of God
but
there is never an ending which
satisfies or satiates the melting heart
of a man’s ambitions, no recognition
or reward which relinquishes the
desire to build and break down, and
to shred the self and spread its confetti
amongst the piglets and the ravens
the last man would find himself
aching and gasping, crawling
towards a field of mint, and when
the air inside his head becomes too
stale to think, the poor creature
would roll over and return to his
wife and his child and the collective
psychosis which keeps him safe
Jak is a Brisbane based writer and poet with an interest in introspective work using nature as a conduit. His poetry has appeared in Glass, ScratchThat, Blue Bottle Journal & InkBlot Magazine. His prose has appeared in Wet Dreamz Journal.