Let Us Know You're Here
full of cashews. I wanted to explain
about how when I'm out there, and physics,
and the food they give me, well, I'm rambling.
The trees, or my memory of trees
with their white leaves, the sparkle of blue eels
in streams, now the warm rock I sit on to warm
my bottom. My consolation is dimming out
to the fried ends of a delicious episode. If I could
pry up the horizon and lift the lid of the sky
I'd fall asleep whenever possible. I'm thinking
maybe, just maybe, this is why
I can't have nice things.