Another Metaphor Turns Ornery

There's razor wire around the dirt mound
- no fences by the graves.

I tell myself this means something,
like the nonsense pleas of children and the updates for the day,

But it's only eyes upon my loneliness,
that one thing that I can't perceive exists.

The city turns too easily into toothpicks;
the people in the buildings, I make up.