61.
Not sure what the giving gave a beak
in bark
drink your tea he cries a bird
instructor on the empty moor
everything climbs o let the creature
out
the little lamp that lights our
garnet cavern
sweet aquifer deep riddled with ideas
those toxins of thinking those
premature concretions
just keep thinking the car’s not
there yet
this rolling motion the cello taught
the sea
everything began with us we carved
the fossils in our sleep
smooth skin rough bark all the pain
at once
the world was created ten minutes ago
when you looked out the window and
saw the tree.
62.
Don’t say a name here say a thing
instead
a king grows wary after Pentecost
all those green Sundays and no dragons
God sends sometimes an anchorite to
rouse
tepid thinkers to outrageous absences
silence is a dragon of its own
the dear knights try to conquer it
with song
I’ll never be popular I’m a man
priestless sat together sitting
together is a mode of prayer
who benefits from this stone altar
who tastes the woodruff in this May
wine
master of the forest undefiled by
speech.