A green and grey highway

stretching between

the rails that break off

where the forest munches closer

to the pale line in space

and on the deck wounded

pacing time

I relinquish my golden painted body

and its black beard

I watch the gears in a waterfall

and mirages

only for the speaking voice

the fond error of man

to be found in key

for locks outside formation

let the vines rattle

and the shoe's rubber glisten

to silent tar

soothing over fountains

one lamp in a factory parking lot

tapping at a flock of wings

one resounding pepper

or warped set of cymbals

in our gas cocoon

sell me a number of leaves

paper that rides a river

and the roots talking

moon roll go me a solid stone

dice up the dreams

lay the eyes in feathers on a hood

purr me up to the landing

ladle him into the matrix

who leaves me in mineral waiting.