The poisons of earth

and the poisons of man

I drink from a goblet

made from my own clay

the sick tree is still blossoming

I watch the rivers of the sky

tug and move across the immaterial

mountain peaks are crackling with fire

down here in a pocket pool

between stones and slender birches

I am bathing nude as a bird

in the finery of my nimbus

a cyclops with the semblance of a vulva

watches me over these hazy hills

I let the reel run unlike time

a mind within many minds

is painting on walls of waitresses

the sun is stuck in honey

and it can't get out

lend a paycheck to this yielded body

watch the fangs of light retract

into a mist of souls, all desire

decoded by the bark

that falls like paper on water

a dock of iron stretches

over the land to a plush

furred rubber chamber

where sight resides in snakes

that neither linger or labor

the fungal reek emerging later

than the blood and dirt

the wire skirt of droning cicada

beam of lilac on a screen of dying

saviors of a straw man's prayer

for vacancy's exploding neighbor

in the harbor of the fertile dark.