INVOLUNTARY

High up specks of little

birds' wings'

reflexive beating

softly, efficiently 

trips some ancient 

circuit in me, 

repeating—like it or not, 

some invisible 

force is

always working;

an invincible 

nurse—who may 

not care, but whose duty 

it is nonetheless,

to wipe all our 

tears whenever we 

fall—if not 

our sorry 

incontinent

assholes later on.