as I search the dumpster for beauties.
A convex sky is blinking at me.
Far up, in the creamless depths,
there must be a strange wheel turning.
I'm a soldier in nobody's army
turning to salute the scalding sun.
The chain of days goes
further and further.
I am with it in the hook
that breaks rugged stone.
The web of roots is dredged up
from under this pale blue skin
of dry tar. Earth is deeper than air
and wilder. I am her demon
of many ages, some swampland singer.
I'm the deity's forgotten finger
watching trash of time.
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