the day is a drum that connects
these vocal loops  
with grey traffic circles
bridge after bridge

as u know    we look for u
in the park           the terse
wood under trippers light
are spawning     sharp thighs
shafts and cunts melting
in the firs' limbs
      gossip surrounds you

wish to start our conversation off
and start another           wish you'd
come back and clean up this town
the wind rises

smoking holds feelings down
drinking retards this movement
in the chest         i cry in bed
walk steep tracks in the dry spells
there is no         why

they can articulate
that is more than running water
        care for me
the living hold each other
and philosophy falls
out of all our mouths

while by the lakeside
trees fuck in the storm
almost nobody else sees