Candy sloth. 

The closest some ever get to their own empire 

is reopening the pier during monsoon 

using pliers to remove the cavaliers 

running stitched tears refilling 

The jars being slide in running 

Board games the tiles rubbed 

of they’re green 

history brushed off in barbers chair 

To catch a candied sloth growing 

lichen too appease hangman 

underneath from the rootless 

boards of silent discognective 

therapy salt quill of petre.