Poem #2,813 | & I found another one

& I found another one
left dumb by a ripping
prey – floundered with
less explanation than I
could summon for him
& his past set aside by
another’s directive – Is
this how it works? This
sixtieth year flows into
my raw veins enough –
still I am a flamed welt
now on my auld wrist –
then a sore spot – we’ll
squeeze [be squeezed
& then tear] – My heart
all dysfunctions – still it
forces in thick blood as
other purposes demure
[within this place I Lord
it up] – now move away
& light on someone else