fuss of a hussar

i was going to wake up

and see the world

but the shades are shut

where covered darkness

births the warmth of one’s

breath like carrion

from roadkill

of a baby raccoon

that no one else

will look at

or for

for there are many more

who will not cross the road

*

behind my shield

i cannot see

but once hit by

the sword

my eyes leave all the same

and i grab the edge

that eats at my face

to lead the way

hoping that the blade

does not cut me

and worse

it does not injure

the others in front

of my walking stick

who are only

trying to find their way

*

what is there

to do besides

what there is

which always turns out

to be too much

and even when complete

it feels too little

for there is more

outside and inside

to be done

and done with done