putting on your shoes,
I think for a long time
how you've got me now

walking to the reservoir
I remember
how you said so little

we the people,
moss-eyed accidents
our
mouths
are cemented over

we risen mudfolk
of the pine- strewn swamps
scattered car parts everywhere

grow for me-

you've got me walking to the reservoir
where there are reeds and marsh and ducklings
and phantoms for me

can't you grow for me?

I have
all this pithy hope
pushing on your shoes.

rise up mud-folk
and be good to yourselves

or I will wed incomplete she
and whirlwinds come crashing down
until the end of days