listening to
Father John Misty in
pink
over
pink time

schism-
shifting
into
poppy red

with a pleasing
depth
of shadow
just
within reach
between
them

(while)

our faint
blue
light

speeds

through
the universe
towards
the
ultima Thule

Like wild geese, fishermen
and monks landed here, others

sailed on and discovered America
but they came back

by the north, Thule
where it rains glowing stones

where the land burns and the rocks
swim between boiling fountains

There are the gates of hell
and the paths to heaven

invisible above the clouds
around huge curtains of ice

They came back to tell
about these wonders, too biblical

to want to keep it secret
from their family and friends

And the new world
they forgot