Roil

“Roil,” was all he would say but after all

he was in a cave full of bones

still decaying flesh on some of them

In a cave the sun never shines

but a hungry rat can fly like superman

and nothing lasts for too long

rats make quick work of time

“Roil.”

Not rail nor roll nor oil.

“Henry? Are you in there?”

Her voice echoes choes hoes

cold old shapeless stones speak

a parody of her concern for

“Henry? Are you hungry, Henry?”