Who pushes poetry so it hurts rushes back to the trees.
Tests our poetry all along without arguing. Thought art
Could approach the chaotic. Unscripted expansion in light.
Saying things I mean words tries a way through the blank.
Meaning comes like a lie. Course it is. A smile he said.
The truest disconnection. Snuck in by the gods way.
Ordinary day broke open blathers. On a strange stage.
Not awake though. Not yet here. Not a critical cell.
He said. Then drew back to forest edge. Which crows.
Which oaks and sycamores. Which hardy shadow beasts.
Understanding came like a truce. He whiffs a critter.
Comes like an informal invitation. This was lifelike.
In its petals and bracts. Deciduous permutations. As.
The science around it rises to say. This is its name.
No other until you make it. Like a person. An option.