Pillars

brittle are the branches
of the forest
of the tall skeletal trees
the white leather bark
bares the lack
of trust
and the saturation
of fear

the tall skeletal trees
hide behind
their gray barrels
their money masks
their churchy charms
their wind

they rattle their laws
in the ravenous tempests
the yellowed faded laws
that fall to the floor
to be trodden upon
until they are earth itself

the tall skeletal trees
that have a taste
for their own
bleached flesh
and impatiently wait
in the ravenous tempests
for one of their own
to fall
into the puddles of piss
they sip from