in east delano
with all the mirrors;
i am bohemian boy
canoeing trash river,
stapled to the floor
and gunning bigger skies.

serpent belly,
i know the earth
and wednesday to wednesday
there is press
of fern and leopard
and fermentation and sloshing
concussion.

i see brick
and black
right now.
i see pattern
and small print.

could you open your mouth;
as to pour out the rain?

this is the season of the blue moon,
now things will happen
all we have waited for.
the strange, the  unexpected.
no man can tell another what they are
they are closely guarded
the barred and botled strong room.