Never ran this hard through the valley
never ate so many stars
I was carrying a dead deer
tied on to my neck and shoulders
deer legs hanging in front of me
heavy on my chest
People are not wanting
to let me in
Door in the mountain
let me in
an abandoned chest of roistering literature for the drunk and rampant reader.
Never ran this hard through the valley
never ate so many stars
I was carrying a dead deer
tied on to my neck and shoulders
deer legs hanging in front of me
heavy on my chest
People are not wanting
to let me in
Door in the mountain
let me in
Who did I write last night? leaning
over this yellow pad, here, inside,
making blue chicken tracks: two
sets of blue footprints, tracking out
on a yellow ground,
child’s colors.
Who am I?
who want so much to move
like a fish through water,
through life…
Fish like to be
underwater.
Fish move through fish! Who
are you?
And Trust Me said, There’s another way to go,
we’ll go by the river which is frozen under the snow;
my shining, your shining life draws close, draws closer,
God fills us as a woman fills a pitcher.