Oak and aster planted in haste into evening. Sowing seeds in casement windows. Reaching for day. Soiled and seeping, slowly heaving. Brown to my throat, coughing in rain, pulling seedlings, slowly breathing. Take the absence, file it away. Supersede me without seeing. Taste an excess. I thought I could stay. I thought I would dedicate. I just want to dig in.

Countless at the door and bound to fall away again. I’m not abetting them. Pause, have been away and fallow in the waving plains. I’m unawake again. Show me what to say and tell me what to do. I need no notice, I see no solace, I near the moment to breath into these outmoded means, myopic and clean. These months do bleed into these unfolding scenes, unguarded and mean. These months do bleed into a seeping slowness, I fail to focus. I need a moment to breath in. Called out what a waste, pretending not to waste away. I am not a waste again. Say there’s been enough, I’m holding out to wait bit. I’m unafraid again. Show me what to say and tell me what to do. I need no notice, I see no solace, I near the moment to breath into these outmoded means, myopic and clean. These months do bleed into these unfolding scenes, unguarded and mean. These months do bleed into a seeping slowness, I fail to focus. I need a moment to breath in. Cheer up honey. I hope you can. There is something wrong with me.

Settled in and doing great with seven years to set things straight. A steady march to steady gains. Don't think about the weather. Atoning for the last parade. Sorting plastics from the waste. But my intentions cannot take the taste from something bitter. I don't need anyone to tell me what I shouldn't eat. I don't have any means to quantify what I can see. Too much, too quick, too close to home. That much to bear is best for both. Can I have just a little bit? Can I have just a little bit? Too much, too quick, too close to home. That much to bear is best for both. Can I have just a little bit? Can I have just a little bit? River water pulling trees into barns and into streets. A sodden roof slipped underneath the want to make things better. And still I fear a coming wave, a burning out, a flooded plain, a dying beach, and empty lake. And still I buy a better thing. I don't need anyone to tell me what I shouldn't eat. I don't have any means to quantify what I can see. Too much, too quick, too close to home. That much to bear is best for both. Can I have just a little bit? Can I have just a little bit? Too much, too quick, too close to home. That much to bear is best for both. Can I have just a little bit? Can I have just a little bit? Too much, too quick, too close to home. That much to bear is best for both. Can I have just a little bit? Can I have just a little bit? Too much, too quick, too close to home. That much to bear is best for both. Can I have just a little bit? Can I have just a little bit? Too much, too quick, too close to home. That much to bear is best for both. Can I have just a little bit? Can I have just a little bit? Too much, too quick, too close to home. That much to bear is best for both. Can I have just a little bit? Can I have just a little bit?

Western beach with tides and all the reef, but we haven't filed the scent away. Rise and reach, but time cannot reveal the tooth inside of what we make. They told me, and I could not believe, that we cannot seek if we don't take. Pushed for weeks when I was counting sheep and I must have slept the day away. Always I believed that worth was from a wasted place. Always in between a pose that shifts between two shapes. Sheepishly, a half-forgotten need is worth half the weight of working wage. Lapping reeds and praise for those who teach, but we haven't gone to work today. Always underneath the truth could be what we won't say. Some days we agree that all we ever do is pace. Western beach with time to sodden feet but we haven't filed a cent away. Rise and reach, but I cannot release the boot inside the mud and clay. They told me, and I could not believe, that we haven't found a better way. Expect me to sound like I can't breath when I haven't gone to work today.

Days in. Outspent. Un-wasted again. Take a moment. I'm waking slowly from a dream based on something I don't recall but I can see. Dazing, house, pen. I'm wasted again. I face the ocean. I stand devoted to the breeze. Take in motion I've been waiting for for weeks. Days in. Outspent. Un-wasted again. They have thrown me. They have thrown me out to sea. And they've told me all the steps to find the beach.

In all the days preceding a stalling stage, repeating our words and phrases without meaning, I watch the haze and I breath in. We can ask in all the ways, "Will we be sinking in that room again?" And enraptured, paused in place, but we sink in that room again.

I've had half a thought. I don't know the half of what it takes to get caught up in it. And say I've seen enough. Be left without even a roof or space to be stuck. I'm barefoot in the dark. I keep my head down working out a face for the front. But I've been keeping up, a payment for the sake of being saved from the rut. So I've had half a thought, but maybe I don't seethe way the frame's worth the rot. Still I believe you. It's all to make a market move. Pretending to see through an art to take the honest truth from some kind of remove. A hope the bottom falls out soon and still I believe you. And still I believe you. Still I believe you. It's all to make a market move. Pretending to see through an art to take the honest truth from some kind of remove. A hope the bottom falls out soon and still I believe you.

Tiptoe through cottonwood. Feet wet with autumn dew. I pause to feel the weight of dampened wool. Wasting a holiday. Can't make the tongue pronounce the name. I cast the lure and watch it sink away. See smoke through feathered trees. Pretend a storm is what we need. I catch a crow and plan to set it free. Weak since election day, fasting to face a fact without a face. I watch the news to watch my vision shake. And feel the ever-present sense of being left astride the fence to greener pastures. And see that fence is all that's left of feeling blessed amidst the wreckage of the past years, complete with all the second hand accounts, the glimpses and the glances at disasters.