This is a glass skull, this caveman head.
Across its depths trek dinosaurs, the dust-polished
intelligence of tribes now obscure.
Mists swirl & guesswork digs in:
minds meeting hands, the gaps & link.
Oh blow on time, pass knowledge
of bent-over backs & crinkled brows
glistening with sacred sweat.
Beyond the horizon, weather vanes, radar
& flashing pin pricks amid winds—–
charts analyze direction through doodle dreams,
through foreign words, through the Zen universe’s
electric blip screened between lines of trees…
Oh starry, starry, take that veil,
a storm in the cranium, this ancestry of space
lathe-winding through eons to spill as film
from our orbiting hive.