I shut the tired book but open
the longing song Good to live
down here for another spell:
in the morning slums of love
the sun crazed roads
travel into me And his sounds dirty as lakes
Where the map grid ends
so much water begins: like a song
we listen even
to the sleeping rocks dream the kind
of noise you can’t talk about
in a book
When a road walks you this far
don’t try to say
it wasn’t actual:
I hear the proof
when he wakes like warm
gravel against my ear
Susurrus sub rosa
I don’t know how to keep this down
or away
from the cartographers
so I won’t get sized
to faithful scale