capital figures of running throwing catching batswinging base ball money speech every meta hero a self digitalizing trading card with a meta multi lateral performance contract random mistimed line drives base coach clap capturing carbon tv audience radio active hydrogen leatherette gloves belts stocking suspenders snap rain beyond sustainable check post meta funds game
washington nationals stadium pouring rain meta lost fun house dull game as in aching pain calories in brightly frozen plastic rain meta happy thousands of billions in stadium dream trope play trope stop the play very high rate of tropes per inning and frame tarp covered field of base running shame
looking my depth and field search and scan meta concourses stadium of thousands and rain for you and what you hold and take and give not meta back
7 is i believe a random number in this case park avenue mosher water gaslight company walk east toward buried jones falls south below first reservoir mountain volcanic royal to over blastzone coming underground west virginia ohio beyond centuries ago sunken station dragon fly thousands buried jones falls cathedral preston howard seating sculptured rhythm world warring many times from here ivy green clean swim lanes staying in dolphin massive ocean just back east deep and shallow bay sitting buddha shoulder east peace love understanding willow oak masons time of day crow conversation west fitted stone vale to eutaw place north a little northwest not passed north running east west west east taut stepping necklace of poured concrete square circle triangle teardrop jewels under would be thankful endeavoring hardwood canopy would be like everything in around you me catching throwing fielding arnold who was shot laurens wilson blastzone east buried coast passenger rail friends promenade exercise bluff buried jones night mythology falls park avenue
7 is fountains passed thru first 2 eyes bubbling up as if geothermally forced 30 strides apart joy and sorrow evaporating straight up one built slightly higher water pressure stronger dark in a tree shadow choppy sea overflowing squared off edged circular rim to sit upon other same slightly shorter built subdued water rippling clear gray all ways third a fountain of genocide 2 step strides all around 36 helpings of pie around fragile fresh water raining gently from below world upside down colonizers in a boat the rower with zombie blue glass eyes, walk away north into a crepe myrtle glade fourth a fountain swan gladed buffeted calling almost strait up with water on black shallow bowls mid air time travel suspended a gurgling fotograff her spitting up west black bowls pouring her water back east longer north city glade step on moral compass between speeding cars fifth in wild rose echinacea goldfinch sorts of flyosaurs loving the small quiet four bowled water from a tiny topping tower perfectly level dripping from bowl to bowl as the wind blows back east to the bluff near buried jones falls sixth and seventh signal each other uphill fountain smaller shorter water flying sagging loop quiet sound osage orange tree holding fruit downhill fountain bigger taller water flying straiter up old holly dispensing sparrows pigeons sixth and seventh water yellow industrial pollution light green nitrogen oxide epa non attainment yellow green mostly squirrels children walkers canines benches, some sleepers park avenue
7 is i believe water is a random number with which to multiply the millions and billions of faucets and spigots of walkers of fountains park avenue my fascist treachery legacy
in the mountain not on it is where the gift of rain falls very same vault of many shaded sky we live in might see behind very same regulator of light in billions eyes closing opening separate harmonics rhythms in bent mountain silence and forest field waters calls and moving in silence
very same messenger from was and will may be entering the heart of every hero which is every living thing gift of rainfall dreaming edge of valleys of sleep very same vault of every shade of blue red orange yellow indigo violet haft of fall blade of fall still and waving iris in tall grass petals in every gradient of night and day keepers in the wind in mountain trees very same vault of threads of life highest branches deepest roots keepers of heroes that are every living thing
when i am just water i will find the blackest smallest vein in the rock and flow into first i queue then i spiral down seeking spectrum of light underground
or ride with the heavy rains carrying myself away flying over dry creek bed hard rock made everything water touching ribbon of fall stretching a mile and a mile in moonlight that turns sycamores upside down to drink the misting air
but when we are just water in the blackest vein limestone calcium seems and fissures imagine we are the sweat of rock unseen sun sequestered all around dangerous cavern slow certain seeping speed ocean of mineral cathedral of darkness where light is imagine yourself tumbling down down down down underground tumbling tumbling tumbling down seeping seeping thru and around seeping seeping around and around seeping seeping down down down underground dripping everywhere there is to drip oozing thru rock pouring in space finding and making deep water down underground
suddenly a vast and winding hall graced by a chihuahua dog washed in from a human family farm nearly immortal mineral canine mother she walks and crawls and sleeps and dives the watery way every crack and fissure has her measure every moving being her chihuahua mother blessing she tends a shoal of jet black darters with gold and silvery stripes she eats them with ceremony preserving them with life she licks the cavern bumble bees as they polinate and polish the rock constant wings fanning watery silence her saliva limestone phosphorescence and so their flight
water would stay here forever pleased but spinning vastness of timely space lowers the dry creek bed lets in yellow calcium sipping birds and bats and night and morning light the water queues and has to leave having waited millions upon millions of perfectly radiated moon with light
you might go in where the water comes gently slowly up and out if you were the life of the soil about you might pet and sleep with chihuahua mother if you were the life of the soil about you might steam the tasty gold silvery striped jet black darters where earth heat rises transforming them as you breath if you were the life of the soil about
in true fact you might try anything if you were to keep the life of the soil about
were the woods a wilderness now civilness a small fire burning to a person finding a way would mean sustenance or violence either way but the woods are couch with imported meadow grass scattered elm and holly to remember by and by tarmac baked clay bonded aggregate constant dawn from light emitting semiconductor blocks of rock from colliding lithosphere piled into fine grained crystalline white supremacy
i walk to the fire despite uncertainty finding neither sustenance nor violence but both strange not camp fire burning since the other day with our brother inside living marble eyes to see passionate speaking lips to kiss tender ears amplifying thunder and passion perfectly placed nose collecting molecules of atmosphere skin sensuous tender touch all burning violence vacuum of faith
how can i unaccept left smoldering embers of love lighting way to look for persons missing human wilderness civil society see hear smell touch taste
i cannot say foraging calling crows from ever woods perching all over and about quarried white supremacy
burning into soft sticky mass friable out of firedamp and bags of foulness sign of life first cells blooming whatcha call it i am that even on my back on a steel bench staring up and out an airport skylight waiting for the light rail soil life rising up breathing upon trillions on billions on millions on thousands on hundreds on tens on this one spine i am that fungal vertibrate when to be shovelled away burned with so many salamanders source of so many waters Till theyUME UNenthrall themsUSelves: where is the soul of a mountain forever lost
i for one until the end of this poem am not laughing a graft is a grail is not a gleam streams unstreamed for pell mell rail thirtysix spirits driven forever until the next great universes veil am not laughing at extruded methane rattling in the ojo of fallen water
i was transported in a bus in the dark into a place where water stops to breathe and so beautiful light darkness before sunrise revealed
a slow pause of stream suddenly becoming a seeming sea of its own
gladelike idyllic alabama woods secluded creek roiling down hard sediment from old mountains of old seas a sea cascading down triple the height of old tall trees a sea with its own rising clowds of water and air as nowhere else anywhere a brief fast forceful sea at whose bottom after whirl of portal of roaring whitewater three stone throws from the pause of the creek above another seeming this time a lagoon to forever gated by hardwood and pine
so in still water as if a horizon below creek as sea a late moon finds schooling fish loving lantern sister of earth transcending into as they move about freshly stirred still water almost to vortex at bottom of falls where full force of water tons water and passing moments fish glowing seen thru superslowmotion stream sea shapeshifting clouds
i feel the youghiogheny since fivehundred moons as a young man curled in a ball born under the roaring water from viginia mountains coming to the great gulf now dream of being chained under this stream vortex to shred away
i borrow and give back fourhundredseventythree words reimagining story of tiesnake spirit underwater slithering with power greater than tons pulling under whichever it might choose this snake black and secreting extruding methane in the ojo of fallen water
less than hundreds we walk as more than thousands slowly down both steep stream banks toward the glowing swimming fish hands on trees and jutting rocks feet on steep soil moss and rock into still water a circle around fish all swimming water ballet they leave beneath us we breast stroke toward the falls and join hands rising to stand waiting waiting treading glowing ourselves in sister moon and then tiesnake chooses
but it matters not which no hands let go strength more than millions we walk as chain holding eachother into and part of creek roiling down hard sediment from old mountains of old seas black tiesnake dragging behind up through superslowmotion shapeshifting clouds up to idyllic alabama slow pause of stream we wade in and circle all dancing water soiree black tiesnake drifts toward sun not sister moon we let it go