is landscape the language of the gods?
that’s the question i want to ask
as long as my voice holds out
the world must obey me and
when the birds drink they
will quench my wretchedness,
quickening the thunder and lightning.

the spring depends on us because
last night i met a girl so beautiful
in her body revolutions glistened
and i saw an hour of tremendous
light bringing fruit back to the century.
she gave us a certain lavender courage
we haven’t known since childhood