Among the things that we don't know
about their civilization is the name by which

they called a clay plate such as this, that is

 

The logic of sleep tells me I can see without eyes,
insists I abandon measurement and calculation.

You describe a crocodile in a lake, an anchor sunk

shadows of cows in a pond once
became emblems of the heat

Dull skies descended to empty hilltops
and ordinary seabirds paddled towards
the opposite bank of a glimmerless river.

The sun is fierce over the slum of Kibera
and the iron roofs wrinkle into eyelids
sleepily tilting over damp mud walls.

One would give emeralds
for what was not bought from the pear man
who stood in hot, blank sunlight

In the first place they would sustain themselves
on warm, sugary drink, as they imagine herons
and kingfishers do—confusing bodily elegance.