This’ll be my first time.
NO RIVER
Time rewards. On the late work day,
the highway whip-flickers. Heat and
cold mixing make a wall. The valley
is bay and trees, halved by fog, low-
hung, swept water patiently waiting,
white. Forget what I said. Forget I
said it. There was no man before no
touch no pain no child no trace no tights
no dirty no flying no goal no tables no
trial no inferno no choice no lobby no
process no massacre no moon no maybe
there was another moon no immediate moon
no machine no surprise no marigold no
candidate no classified no trilogy no
Santa Claus no still life no such thing
no notebook no refund no rainbow
no radio no protection no river no you
no end to you no everything begins
beyond. Believe the cloud. The cloud,
the sheet, the steam, the robber bees
and wasps, the honey, that long gold
line I would drink from your thigh
somewhere we could row and row to.
