it's a

it's a goal to be as a goat:

possess hooves,

ears, even without horns,

sound somewhere between

a bray and a bah

star yellow

So, I can not name them.

They need, I know, some water.

I dig my knees deep,

return them prematurely back to dust,

to pray and pick these flowers.

consider yourself surrounded

i'll opt to consider myself surrounded,

rather than lonely and amid quiet,

weil there's a whole circus of friends

pulling out a whole nonsense on stops

in the green house, which is toppling over

in not only green but purple and blue and

stars, ribbons, sticks, and soil.

every morning, this lupine surprises me with another tassle.

every morning, it greets me with a trick or two.

something's now on fire, unfolded,

waving greetings, waving dew.

mad tom

April

Comes like an idiot, babbling and strewing flowers.

edna st. vincent millay

thanks

All things are full of gods, eh thales?

Does this include us and our filthy thumbs?

It is not a problem of perception for me now,

but rather how to react to continual deities.

I'm beginning to understand why some live perpetually

on their knees.

We'll never be able to say thanks enough.

I pass on my gratitude to the birds,

so that they may pass theirs on to the berries,

so that they can nod cheers to the sugar,

which, when warm, will make them into jam,

which I'll take and coat on the wafer.

Drink the cordial too.

Then kneel and harvest more.

stronger language

The saliva left from the mouths of grazing cows

aid in the regrowth of grass,

and so honor your spit as a bandage,

cooing and nursing your tongue and palate,

so that the words you may speak today replace

the weaker ones of yesterday, your language

rolled in the salve, in the tincture.

Know it will be said even better tomorrow!

rain day muddled

I have a mind to confuse things,

unite them, bring them to birth,

mix them up, undress them,

until the light of the world

has the oneness of the ocean,

a generous, vast wholeness,

a crepitant fragrance.

-pablo neruda