Meaning escapes in the most profound philosophies
and critical rhythms, invisible in sober pain.
Drink up all images in the surrounding vicinity,
they'll be stark against a red rosary and soft baby curls.

Hummingbirds don't just buzz,
they touch perfect nature;
empty of plain meditation,
plentiful of justification.

Every bud slips on tar, black as blindness,
spilled from stupid soles---traces
fall as rain, stick like malignancy.

Prime spending begets war, not
struggle, and then hands gesture
to parts and portions
underneath garbbled discharge, foamy
refuse, and stacked cement.

But nevermind the innocence
crouched under the sink---
bubblegum cures almost anything.

So, drop by at the falls, where
there's the greenest eyes ever,
and say when you've finally decided
to refuse effort and embrace indolence.

this is us. you're welcome.