I’m shoving fat candles into dirt,
blowtorching the wicks and tooting
horns.
I couldn’t render enough tallow
to properly honor over 4 billion years,
sorry,
you have so many hills. On one hill
two horses graze. You can’t tell me
shit,
I’m dumb in the ear of your plateaus,
the elbows of your trees, the eye of
mountain
springs. Though, I’m part of you,
I think. Science tells me I’m 60%
water.
The Bible claims I come from dust
and shall return. Have you ever read
books?
Did we get anything right? I mean, you
keep turning your cheek, letting us
breathe
even though we harvest your tears
of oil, melt your glacial heart. One
horse
gallops down the hill, hooves massaging
your back. I trust when you’re ready my
bones
will prove useful. I trust that your stupid
beauty will keep whispering our dust is the
truth.
