70

70.

Thrushes chatter noon on a different coast

don’t be fooled we haven’t gone anywhere

esemplastic edenstuff

the skin’s unbound highway

I think they told me my intestines end to end

could wrap at least once around the earth

the things we dare to believe

and knowing surrender to

forgotten things sunken rooms

presumption is an individual hell

to follow every sunset back

on a road of my own entrails

if there is evil it’s undone from within

that’s why Kant was moral

his time measured by Io, slightly off

walk true down the wrong road

walk from Budapest to Auschwitz C.H.

but none of that is walking 

the more difficult task of being still

to use your being, unquestionable matter

of the true materialist

travel of backwards people, Egyptians, 

Gypsies– didn’t Moses wear a veil?

pardoning you from anybody’s face.