23 Lines + 24 Lines – Michael Roque

July 2, 2026

The Fragmented Whole

 

We lived within each other.
Brothers and sisters
in stardust
twirled into a single-cell organism.
A billion beating hearts—
one sole rhythm.

A world of beings split—
materialized.

Every street cat,
shark at sea,
mantis on a leaf,
savanna giraffe and me—
flowing through one another’s bloodstream.

The whole of wildlife within—
unrecognized.

Signatures binding us as earth beings
overlooked in a limitless universe
where everything native to this rock is us—
brothers and sisters
long separated,
made consumable.

Pieces of our own soul—
cannibalized.

 

 

 

Ode to the Used

 

How many fresh baguettes should be put out
for the urban pigeons?

10,000 years of companionship—
sought by royalty,
fought in human wars.
To be kicked away.
To be called rats with wings
today.

How many statues should be sculpted
for the turnspit dogs?

400 years running in wheels—
cooking our roasts,
pelted with coals.
To be driven extinct.
To be forgotten
today.

How many assisted living homes are reserved
for the grandparents?

91 years of hard labor—
storming beaches,
sacrificing dreams.
To face sickness alone.
To face death in a for-profit hospice
today and tomorrow.