{the willow weeps the kitten sleeps}

enter the walrus ending the tall tusk the water has only begun to adjust to its intimate sunset evaporate from it turning its depths into shallow and half wet bodies of water and bodies of sun battling bodies to battle the one thing lacking attacking in record of having have had it had not it been better to have but the wetter was bad and the dryer has pads paved in pavement paid in patience but always quite glad to part with the part for the heart of the matter was only the cart filled with mangos filled with rain blown away from the pond leaving mud to harden to crack to garden until lush and tempted with greens mending it seems is actually unattained without rain without plant without seed but yet to be seen while the ant in verse is free today the day to come is days away when the walrus plays again in the sun without mud in its way.



TWENTY-FIVE JULY TWO-THOUSAND-TEN