Jumping up and over my branch
hitting things with the hairs on my back
sometimes relaxing but never repenting
killing small animals with intellectual venom.
I don’t know how I got here,
where I remembered combinations and
keys to coördination factories where
buttons and zippers are unproduced.
Nothing could have gone too far, is speculated.
Hunts begin. Airballs swirl around sniff tests.
Bending teeth with improvised screw drivers
Relieves cosmetic austerity until death.
