A kestrel orbits the meadowlands
beside the turnpike.
A reminder: In the order of everything,
it is most likely the case
that no thing ever separates from any other thing,
despite great evidence to the contrary.
The four-ounce kestrel glides, powerful and hungry—
Diogenes masturbating in the marketplace—and dies,
his body fallen on the pavement’s lip,
passively mourned, if at all, quiet
beyond the field of invasive
feeding many equal things,
the earth itself.
Joseph M. Gerace is a journalist and multidisciplinary artist. His work can be found at wikipoem.org and has appeared in Poets Reading the News, fluland, SPAM zine and elsewhere. His writing explores the intersection of folk art, technology and the outer limits
of communication. He lives in New Jersey.