Vagrant sounds flow
over the whole earth.
Paths yield worms
and encircle the towers.
Seats on a stack of straw paddles
fountain's faces of leather.
Old friends in their afterlives
pawing through stacks of records.
Names and personalities
piling up on the ceiling
train's nose in the cabin window
puffing steam's rag of speech
shelves of iron and silver
hilltops and lower mountain ledges
all a rented field of dancing girls
branches dripping with stuck fog
deep in the lane of a twitching video
smirking through cracked ice
backfiring over the steamrolled land
hands on the antenna's many wheels.