Everything

Driving badly through rain I rolled
the car off a short bank into a fast-moving river.

Years later, having slept beautifully, I woke up
pinned under an extra-redolent cedar tree.

Concentrating, I smoothly phased
through the living wood.

Oh in a sentimental mood for accretive
magnetic thinking I slept in a fragrant room

at a dear friend’s home; awesome piano
playing woke me up. I remembered I

met a thick and bloody river in my dreams
and easily crossed – swimming is easy! Two days

later in real life very sore though. I do fall a good
bit in love every fifteen months. A huge huge

huge ghost tells me everything,
and it’s as fine a form of truth as I can know.

Dear Paul Emily Really     

Joy just quietly bloods the wanderer
floating through Europe in the future.

I loved your wedding, oh I extra-loved
the lanky birds of Orlando’s lakes.

A wedding guest told me the chillest
herons go to bed as men and wake up

 as women – it’s so true!
Joy shadows and pools alongside

your day, and who notices or
makes something of it? Samer(!),

a friend of a friend in Amman,
is very quietly in love with someone

in London. On a nightly basis,
Samer says goodbye to his friends

and confidently and effortlessly
vanishes completely into the night!

Joy, like a soup, like a bowl of the Dead
Sea, buoys godly you away and leaves you

a path to eye-stingingly good anti-matters.
Joy, you know, is murky like melancholy.

It sleeps under a lake! Some people
get a bunch of guys and go hit it

so they know it can’t come back and
terrify the living and thriving villagers.

Image © tanakawho