crazy
sometimes I feel crazy
when the moon is thin
and purple
I step to sounds
of
radiant night
the wolves
are in my fingers
little tiny knives
of hunger
I break the tablet
in twos
and fours
writing
by time
and in accordance
with sacred principle
the eyes are watching
the night eyes
of electronic
speech
echoing my thoughts
in amplification
down the well
are piles
of buttons
chipped and chewed
an old bic pen
was lost as i rested on the stone
waiting for the dragon
I saw a light at the neighbors
house
he doesn't speak to me
his animals are wary
when he whistles
two years ago
his daughter ran away
I am the speech of electricity
a cadence of lighting
and thunder
hushed by the fog
and dreaming of cold pools
and well worn blankets
