It's maybe Tuesday. A workday like
quick yeast. Monday, whatever. It's topaz,

the dark figures, their ticking, etc.
Yeah, with the bony fingers, all that

exhausted clockwork. Take a spoon,
dig a hole. Get in the hole, go to Hell.

A miner's hat and a lump of coal for
teeth. Under the dirt, in the earth between,

the great arthropods. Like the indigenous
camels of the northwest territories.