This Is Too Much New

Silhouettes slapping ghost railway cars,
Families on the bluff, cans in the ditch,
A shadow trail into the frail forest.
Fireflies of insidious delight pepper
The scope of the forest.
The uphill path, but also others.
Until the Lake arrives, temporary ocean,
Winding around like a carribean clock.
And then comes the soul of All-Time,
Silver-Dragon of Nature, which was a lie
Before now, he once stood with naked scales.
Now he has told me many tragic tales.
The Lake turns Silver-Purple, it only makes
Sense now that these were the colors of my school:
I am a firework over reflection of the moon.
Oh, but they have nothing to do. This is too much—
My knees, fallen trapeze, gone down to the mud.
My ass is muddy. It’s probably from when I was
Nearly crying on the ground. I get no satisfaction
In choking on my own leech of regret.It was a most

Terrifying
Beach, too many randy winds, too much sorrow—
I thought I wouldn’t be lost until tomorrow.
I melted out of the leaves: I wanted to believe
That nothing was stopping me from being stuck in between.
Where are they now, to have left the room, a blazing porch?
Like Billy Pilgrim, I went unstuck in time,
And every time I rambled into darkness, I met the moon,
A bald lioness over the canopies, loud down towards the pack of wolves.
Look, I only wanted to quit asking for you.
I hauled my phone over, my eyes cotton, I cannot move.
Pull me. Probe me around the perimeter of the bowl,
Where at the bottom I’ll sleep until my tongue is cold.
World so quiet you’d expect church mice to cry.
But they are stronger than that now:
They’ve been through Time,

They have incredible senses of smell,
And a tendency to run through shit
Before clearing the mammoth trees of my pilgrimage.