I could fall asleep with my head bobbing
like a novelty.
i know it was you who took the branch
and left it in my path,
it was like you were saying
something but also not
saying anything.
The greatest magic trick ever
from the spoiled milk you turned to cheese
to the harpsichord shirt
and the miniature tv,
which only plays black and white episodes
of tv preachers,
and episodes of Bonanza.
You know, the wild horses
you teach so much.
It makes my youth seem wasted on
Mtv, masturbation, and new clothes.
Every new restaurant in town
welcomes the entirety of the crowd
with a jovial wisdom, but
soon though,
I will run away
to the brambled bushes
and the blackberries,
covered in honey and ricotta cheese.
My eyes blink
before I fall asleep and wake
to the sound of frogs laying down their life
for the sake of the moon
the little tadpoles have no opinion
of tides
They wander
in the water,
clear with millions of years
of evolution.
It is a seasonal call to the ground
hold your ear close
and listen to the whistles.
Are those worms
or your human heart
remembering how the
blowing air from great maps
touched the microscopic hairs of your body
and reminded you that winter is on the way
or that soon
you will need to take cover
from a great storm
full of lightning and water.
We curse that representation of us.
It is too large and we are nice people.
Someone to neighbor
out of their head.