Purse snatcher by day, wine taster at night
gathering up all your accomplishments in the lethargic
wobbling light, hung up on old barnyard roof beams
under spatial dimensions sprawling above our heads
accompanied by the proprioceptive moonlight
grasps affirmed by the edge of knowing what's at the end
of this reprise
the waking sensorial howl, the string and the bow
before playing their notes in loud, ceaseless dreaming fish-
river of awakening, river take me from you, river take the car too.
Hand scooping around in pockets for scrap change,
in absence of the sin of holding your hands: Oh, not again
yet that achievement would seem like I gained it like the first time.
The inner sanctuary I rest in, the promise to fulfill his shoes
and knowing I cannot, but the roadwork laid there
dropping our paces and lifting our heads from our knees
but our muscles know what to do to avoid collision-
all in a drop above a sea of stingrays in my head
under a dim and damp light of your father's broken down barn.
