fog

Place one foot here and the other in Mexico.  The desert has always been trouble when it splits the body in two.  Do not be afraid.  It is not far to the graves and the skulls don’t move.

The wall is down. See how easily it fell.  Provide a temperament that will outgain the length of what was built before the wall became a flat earth we thirsted for.  Does it have to be true?  Is it muddy? 

Could we say the lonely heart is the one that loves and the rest of us are swept down the angry river to the Gulf?  What if we are wrong and the incarcerated children never get out? 

The wall says you are nothing when you try to climb, and you are something each time the wall comes down and you fall to the other side. 

THE BODIES REMAINED

The bodies remained in doubt and it rained with the single figure in white.  Guesses were not enough because figures in the night were mounted in purple iron and petrified flags.  The sedated raised their hands and this was interpreted as a signal to the buds and petals in the scrolls.

The bodies shifted a bit and it rained inside the thumbs.  Opinion was controlled by the owl starving in the tree.  One tear was borrowed from the water.  Two fists were taken by force and given a bowl of rice.  Metaphysical light is not a concept. 

The bodies turned toward the sun and it rained in-between the wings.  Moist lips are on their way to becoming human while peace for five was given.  From birth to the soul is an imaginary game.  The separation of a leaf from a tree involves gravity, destruction, and a turn to the west.

The bodies held themselves and sank while it rained hemlocks and nectar.  In the painting, the swallow laughs at the seashell and uncovers a madman inside the green bread while, in the right corner, a lentil sits in the center of a white tablecloth.