that pours down my throat
I watch the river rocks
danced by dervishes
take on a frenetic light
there are screens in the trees
billboards for every milky way planet's
circling moon
I see the proud southern honeys
with long braided hair
coming over the hills
with bayonets and waffle irons
I sit with my squirrel cheese burger
on an iron bench
and smile with all my teeth
just one last time
my heart's in a heron's wide wings
taking off from the stream
in the web of oxygen
where stars drool from a safe distance
his long beak is the tool of my eyes
ripping fish from time.
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