The Council Initiative

I spread across ice, propelled by myselves
You know I never knew my mission but it came to me somehow
It’s the urgency of collecting empty beer bottles now my face is no longer my web,

no longer the sparkling, sinewy desires of the dead flying women that traced before me
Traps don’t work without the appropriately valued bait
I wouldn’t mind being recycled if I could embellish the moon but that takes stars and I only have mixed fibres that will be discarded by someone’s opinion and my lack of certification
Bottles find me or I find them
They whisper very important fortune cookies
Threaten to stop singing once I stop washing in blood
Threaten me with the acquisition of matching set of bags of no determined value
I don’t know when it will thaw nor understand the sustainable