We swim in the riverbend.
It chuckles as it splashed against its banks.
We cannot change our suble attractions in
our blindness; we must learn to hear,
to swim, to be.

The sun descends upon the angels,
my soul which shines farthest away-
alone in the wilderness of the alphabet,
alone with everyone else's ignorance,
we strive to gain a kind of balance in
a careless black womb.

If we can't finish what we believe,
we will die a scarred death;
the beetle in the grass only knows of these
consequences,
he listens solemnly, antennaes twitching.

After the many delicious meals
at sunset we walked down
the hill to tell knock-knock
jokes.

The sun was passing almost overhead,
but I could see someone's car headlights
from where we stood. A flower of different colors

was blooming at my feet.
This was repentance;
it was a summer house.
The gardener offered me
a hoe and rake, and we spent the rest of the day
making the world beautiful
with our words.