a caterpillar fallen from
its tree hurries past
the ground is a leaf
without end or underside
where to shelter from birds
and menacing clouds
you can hide on a plinth
if you’re still enough
convert all your unspent
currency to skulls
the ground is a mask
with too many eyeholes
how to disguise yourself
as a shadow or a hedge fund
if you’re made out of water
you can take any shape
says the fortune cookie
crushed by an impatient fist