106 words to describe futility

  
 
   
   
a low rent Faulkner    
bleeding  out of the  
eyes of Capricorn    
   
revenge in every    
pig snout word  
spilled across the    
table like a glass    
of juice in the hands  
of a clumsy child  
   
rage is an apple  
seed that grows    
monsters if left  
unharvested  
   
the morning came    
and went  
   
you came and went  
   
but i really don't    
remember the  
morning or you--  
   
just the came and  
went  
   
and beyond the borders of  
Zerzura there is a blue heron  
standing in shallow water--  
lifting one leg gracefully  
   
tucking it's bill beneath    
a wing, sleeping and  
dreaming of old men  
picking apples and  
hurling them into  
the sun