From "The Proxy Inhumanity of Forklifts"

By Keston Sutherland.

that chickenshit apollo,
but to draw conclusions from that
all over the wall in a heap of dust on the ground
grinning like lipstick in a frying pan,
the wall of wood torn down,
its entire catalogue of shit having at last digested itself
there is nothing to be done but
be nothing to you,
as there is nothing to do
it for but to be doing nothing but
wanting to try to
live to drown the ice it licks in vinegar,
wanting to try downloading Amputeens,
to try wanting to instead of to die to operating the cast get lead
out forklift as leg fast and as steam
I knew that to be wood I too remained interesting
sh/se had a pelvis like an overdue fruit bill in an incinerated ringbinder
but to draw conclusions from that