This is my hope and
work. The land is fallow,
fickle and fleshy with water
that’s barbarous and brink.
It sounds like a million
people hitting chestnut wood.

This is my place. It’s serene
and pacific. The ground dazzles
and soon dims from within. It
has the power to possess you
from within.

When I see it every Thursday
I scream, “Bonanza, brilliant, blank,
alive.” The ground enchants and
enlightens with one simple
slight step.

Once again, this is my
simple, special, sweet, slimy
love.