grayscale upon all the surfaces as he
toss the hot food out
and sit and watch the plastic chair
with such absent fulness that echoing
that embrace of lostness

how perfectly set that
gray scrolling above and
the rain crash down upon him
with the mouth sealed so the water aflow
through undefined hollow eyes

inflict him that the path is straight
and no fog when he chooses none
or no beat on his leg as he walk
just to lie face down
and let grass consume him
in ever warm daylight