That weekend
When we reached the lake house
After it had rained enough to fill
The floodbanks for an entire decade
Do you rememember...
what it was like?

To walk down the footpath dissected by brambles
And see the fog surround the land
And those first moments
So wonderfully calm

It was if we had found a minnowing horse
We once thought was wild

Seeing into the eyes of it,
We stayed for a whole week
Every day so different from the weeks that came before
Yet every day we felt absolutely settled
in that place.

The past recedes
Into memory
That is all we are capable of.
Still, all the same
We never fail to remember
the past emerging
an old punchline
Only half forgotten.

Hollow words ****! Eat the egg by the pound
Now the garish middle trees are supporting falling off the ridge
Dare we go on with this dredge
Like a lightbulb a canon filches the purse
Byron you wrote you write
Every substantiatable corn
Harp harp on the nails digging into the digable ground
Not like the pillow filled with clouds is the
Syringe tinted
Immobile tank last windows breath sank
Lycan depose
Merry hard rot and decompose
Songs of worth and old
Diametrically opposite to the
World on its toes
Blalala let the intern take his copy of its book to the marlin fishing grounds where the floodbanks roar over the waters and the tree leaves sank into the gravel patterns brave little capitol letters
Hee hah hee hah
Tripe and tripe on the wheels of Atlantis
You’re exposed! Naw
Thought and thoughted that the world was a cup
Believe a word and your life could be ruined
Believed their words now my life is ruined
Have I now peddled the unmistakable
And I ask, “But can truth be sold?”
While a million others stole by