It's true that two hummingbirds singing in exactly the same pitch can shatter the blackest of mountains. But it's also true that the missiles in those mountains can shatter a hummingbird to pieces of hummingbird. The end. But this curled mess of black yarn, this series of concrete barrier entanglements, means that we have to be ready for no matter what, for whatever might befall us—hummingbirds, missiles, those drugged-out runway models. I'm telling you man, we know each other like we know the ghost knowing each other, and I'm so fucking grateful I could fly a kite about it: this terrifying state of the seasons, this half-baked smell of church. I lurch forward to go backward, awkward to go on the record. I just can't get over those blues at the window. And the tiny bit of yellow, like cats' teeth spitting sparks. How lucky we are to have light, how marvelous to scribble over fate. The reason it's good to have faith is the reason for everything good.
Today A Rainstorm Caught Me
Today a rainstorm caught me and I still have not recovered myself with drier blankets The brown leaves blowing off the trees, squirrels and robins cheering them on, but not cheering me And anxiousness has an owl by the throat, has me pill-popped up to Heaven Hill, head spinning one hundred eighty degrees, looking to the past and the future for some news about the present which of course is useless Even I know that Mean- while, Agnes upstairs plays with Grace— the little neighbor girl—not the idea of unmerited forgiveness in light The two of them make up words to no music or to My Fictions and The Saddest Landscape Sometimes it’s hard to say which, no matter how hard I pretend to listen I am no expert at thunder and lightning I am no expert at eggbirds and ghost- typing the air to remember a song Today a rainstorm caught me up The rain came down, and it still comes down The rain comes down is all I know about how sometimes life finds me stupid on the porch with a couple of empty beer bottles, humming and waiting for god knows what, some warm weather to calm me, a few minor thoughts All these days, reasons end somewhere The water still rolls with an owl in its blood We reverberate through it very softly