Lying
on top of a filing cabinet,
a broken
crucifix.
Impossible
position,
Heroic sacrifice,
Unhinged by poor carpentry,
Conducting
a measure,
a second
behind
the time
Of a wide-eyed orchestra without instruments,
Head bowed
in pain,
Thorn-woven,
skin-pierced sharpness
Balancing
on the edge of time
As it spins a measure of the dance
With arms outstretched in space -
A broken crucifix - conducting
a constant
Of our time.