2.
Meander the bucket over, pour
the fire out, our
smokeless need to stealth
in desert, our smoke-
filled bodies. The body is,
it is asking, a pass between
the bushes, a hideaway
in an attic. What happens when
you become a refugee
to the earth itself? These
bundled things walking
for friction, there’s a destination
over the next mountain
pass. Freeways kneel
and hold their arms out for
collapse for collapse.