i never knew i'd know much more than this

for several weeks now
their legs have been
broken
like biscuits crumbs
stuck
in corners in the tin
shaken
dropped on the patio
cracked open
blowing away in the storm
that tears down the trees
they lay down in the mud

how long can they wait?
can they be trees again?
or will their legs drag
hard across the floor
forever?

for several hours now
the icecream van has played a tune
to call us
to worship there
at the altar with soft scoop and sauce

pour it on our heads
to stick down our hair
and fill up our eyes

we can't see
it tastes too sweet

shall we wait here in the mud?
can we tell where chocolate ends?

far away we could still run
but with no eyes
and no legs

the torsos lay discarded on the ground