I see a tree
Skating in the clouds
Right next to me
I laugh
I write
I go home,
The tree with
Fulsome leaves
Trunk and all
Laughs at me,,,
“The fool
He thinks its his
Imagination
Who ever heard
Of someone
Thinking about
Flying trees?”
I heard a dead cow sing
My ears were leather straps
They wouldn’t let in
The sounds,
The words of love
I cry
I write
I wonder ...why?
The dead cow
Danced into a clover field
And invited me in
I thought of rising into the clouds.
Right next to me.
I felt the glue
Seeping into my hands
I placed the envelope down
For it was cutting itself
Right next to me
I’m asking impossible questions.
Am I dreaming?
I write
I sleep
Not knowing
What lies inside
The slowly disappearing envelope
I crumpled it
It crumpled me
Besides.
I felt the pang
Of history
Looking lively
I wrote
I painted
I sketched
Only three seconds passed
Right next me
Even the paint hadn’t dried
By the time I looked
Inside the picture
Looking for me
but the words were still fresh
and
the charcoal was almost dust.
I saw the tree
Again that same day
Right next to me
I wrote
I asked
I laughed
But the message
It wrote to me
Was unclear
In English
The meaning was left
Wandering outside
My window.