Opposite the farmfield / Back where the weather / Has been lonely and dry lately / Into the echoes of words written / From the whispering decades / Wind crashes / Ambition crashes / The storm is an anticipated taste / The days are sprinkled / With daisies dreaming undramatic / The large lizard is spotted / Climbing the fence before breakfast / The stems look different upside-down / The leaves look different pointed downward / The flower petals look different / Reaching for the ground / This is not about balance / As much as it is about balance / The energy left to swirl substantial / Is held by the soul again / Not a doorway but a dimension

The roads still needed to be driven / As scary as they felt / Unsophisticated under the underground glow / The bottom ripples undefined in these well-kept moments / Sliced into thick wedges of unyielding momentum / But this isn’t about speed or flight / This is the tongue’s dimension undoing the unrelenting / And yet the car is parked right where it needs to be parked / Holding the bits and pieces of some homemade determination / The mission uncommon but uncomplicated / When the rain hits the moonlight just like unsavory silence / The station will be changed to something unstoppable

The tears in the liquor / The liquor in the tears / That strip of sunset between dark clouds and dark sky / The tumble of broken rocks after they’ve been kicked / Leaves blown around supernatural and magical / Pages turning / Your fingers lingering on the edge of old paper only getting older / The sigh of rain that appears only briefly / The colors of the vision bleeding vibrant / Into ashes fading into a thin layer of pale shadow / What to do about the broken radio / What to do about the breaking down / Of a landscape unbearable but once necessary / The fire you make when there’s nothing left to make