Inspired by John Adams’ Harmonium 

It takes longer than a human
life for plastic to decompose

by opening itself within
the old bone structures of previous
mammals. Our bodies will gather

in smaller pieces, the places light
can’t escape. How I once found
a monarch butterfly and watched it die;

stole its wings. I’m not a religious
person, but every time I pray,
the living things break into

my hands – taut insect densities,
their smoke a crown, like light,
my muscles of dust. I jackal, but –

o father. How many times have
I woken a stranger to myself?
A wrist cannot open without

violence; the body, severed from
brain, is a mannequin of blades;
volatile and skinless, discovered

in the forests of photochemical air –
another rot in this canine
hollow. The sky’s animal mouth.