this is the noise through
my eye that spins around
— ‘Songs of the Depression’
as the lion himself notes
not worth asking
what elephants want
ignorant of those levels
symptoms are saying
but we have no light
across the brook
each leaf is rimmed
with shining drops
where mice and spiders
vent their spittle
those holy voices
may find us deluded
to have drawn tears
from the bones of the sea
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