I don’t think skulls
Are everything, human-wise,
Unless idea-combined. One skull,
One head, would be unbearable.

I think every skull I’ve saved, mouse,
Lizard, spider, crustaceans, coyote,
Bullet-holed cow, I’ve got them all,
Live, in one form or another.

What if a bone mutated? What if it
Sent up one horn? What if normal
Overcame words? What if technology
Were normal? Burying bone, mutated,
Or not?

I don’t think skulls are scabbards, human
Wise, since, I still can’t grasp the skull
Of a gnat. Can’t finger its scantness. But,
I can feel its harboring life. Would the scopic
Touch of a molecule crush its tiny skull?

I don’t know. I’ve a collection of skulls,
Revered, but, how does that help
What’s going on here?

Erin Elizabeth Kelly-Moen
© Copyright 5/18/08