trees are steaming ever more vital pliant DINK I can’t see a thing in the sky I choose George Stanley over Fear and Trembling Tell why you chose to do this or that on each occasion Nothing with hooves or heels was it? Excuse me for not thumbing the abyss, “the goading urgency of contingent happenings” how stretchy the membrane how drunk the ship breaching the freight we port with however it is I am and come to know the ruby field of feeling and isn’t a life suddenly laid in all its excess of doubt & dualism gag in the mouth I forget to give sense to relations that animate to be carried among them you are not an engineer yet forms persist so topple the column any place there’s a rope there’s the earth is not enough I stick my head in it I lose my coat
"This poem struggles with decision making and its aftermath, at the level of the individual, the nation-state, and the species, if it may be so bold. It sits on a loveseat, a barstool, a concrete slab, and an office chair. It wants to live, love and learn but can’t see the field for the steaming trees."