the gray world still spins
the grease-coated starling
protests salvation
after the manner of his saviors
the gray world still spins
the grease-coated starling
protests salvation
after the manner of his saviors
a fish swims uphill
the mud left from one more drought
caked to what used to be legs
there is no reflection just a baboon tossing rocks in the pool
wondering at the ripples unaware of depth

23
when bed is unavailable
when tired retreat to fire
24
moon you old telegraph
silent, we have no need of direction