Landscapes

from the shadow of the early-set sun
born of the smoky huts and cold steppe's air
grew to bloom on the dune of the moon
cursed to no home and from no home returned
butterfly in ash quietly fluttering as the world burns


Fawn.
.
would you like to be what we see?
a fierce creature wild and bloody?
pale dappled coat and razor hoof
silent underneath the canopy's roof
pale flash in shadows through which you flit
a fawn of the moon — a bride to no bit



each morning over
each evening back
each little bland ghost
each freshly-filed tooth on the chain
over the river and through the woods like trains
to grandmothers' graveyards they go
until the bowers break, nice and slow



it's all been foretold
said Otter to the troll
like in the tales our mothers told us
from so very long ago
does that mean we'll get our mountains back?
oh no they've been torn away
but the good news is we may be doomed
but this time, so are they



OC pogo (slam was better)
mosh pit was for rainy weather
scandie cornfed big fat fucks
trade the farm for suburban bucks
don't forget where it all came from
from wastelands, wilds, and gutter scum
the rejected ones, the throwaways
hidden from view in chaos and change



Havi told us we were perverse, we took offense, we told her we were no pervert.
Then she told us the definition of perverse as in to be oppositional simply for the sake of it.
The definition has since changed.
"You can't step in the same river twice." ♪