on.

time moved on more elegantly
than i’d have liked
its wheels greased with surprising iniquity
i wanted the floor boards to buckle
the breaks to spit sparks in their vigor
but everything swam by

my brother and i drive a foot at a time
crawling forward over the rain-darkened gravel
eyes like saucers
peeled for the sight of salamanders
in their mysterious, perilous pilgrimage
not knowing the danger rolling overhead
not salamanders, actually
newts
if i’m precise
which i sometimes am
soaked to the bone
lap full of lizards
tiny hands and feet
kissing the insides of my elbow,
up and down the backs of my hands
so many small things
are just as hard
to hold

and yet even in the dark
i can see them
the poppies are blooming in california
and it is hard for this heart to stay broken

stay in the not knowing with me
i want to say
at first to you
but more to me
don’t fall for falling
don’t feel for proof
(where there need not
can not be any)
orpheus, do not look back
there is more to see than your closed eyelids can offer
this dark is more worth its salt
pillar or shaker or else
eurydice told me so
shoot straight
you can see the foot in front of you
and
when you drive in to it
you will see the foot in front of that
and that is enough.

things are not as simple
as the path the crow flies
above from one want to the next
we are winding
and unkempt
but so little survives
asphalt
or salt, to be sure

just think of what we can be here
in the dirt.