A shuffling of bodies or the Interstate
highways and the roadsigns. The rotation
of the earth creates illusions, the stations
are hierarchies about god. The elaborate
veils, the raiment, jewels and the late
setting Mars. I can read the education
of the pastures in the stars, the sedation
of yellow flowers, the river flows at a rate
that I'm unfamiliar with. How planets yearn
for direct motion! How the awful, foul
smell rises in the swamp! I wasn't born
of dirt to thirst for light alone, the dull
library obscures the meaning. I return
to a prostrate position under your rule.
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