Time comes spirit weakens and goes blank apartments shuffled through and forgotten
The dead in their cenotaphs locomotive high schools & African cities small town motorcycle graves

Those high lunches needn’t matter
If you are of businessman’s age
Anyway he enjoyed creating food

Stand in a field long enough, and the sounds
start up again. The crickets, the invisible
toad who claims that change is possible,
And all the other life too small to name.

No earthly image —only clouds,
affluent clouds, seen from high above,
still bright at the approach of evening.

                                      The great
            The great           central
                 central           icon

I’ve never been
to heaven
I’ve never been to heaven,

A fragment
A fragment
from a North

Her name 
was Margaret 
and she drummed 

Forests burn into their clearings. A sense of dread.

We want to see the Statue of Liberty giggling.