Knocked on my heels

 Knocked on my heels
as if I had any,
my body as if I was
blessed by the friendships,
so long ago, and then
she eats fine when we sit
down together, I see my father
bowed down at the table,
gone south, my brother gone
west, and Kirk goes to
Africa, such travelers, because
there’s a home to come back to,
not an internet, not yet,
not til yesterday and so
today I’ve no body I’ve
decided, somewhat out of
rhythm and forever gonzoed
like falling over sideways
into the mess that
defies gravity, it rises
up as if a cloud into
all our nostrils, you can’t
escape it, the dust is
horrifically diverse, from
anywhere blown in by
those raging winds or even
the gentlest breeze this
dust is so light.

        It’s possible that if I
think of phallocentric I
    should remember I’m
        dust in the wind.