The Litani banks fill with phosphorus.
Here, the cricket repeats, somewhere, somewhere,
with its dark wings, its five eyes, its toothed legs.
Don’t mistake me for a recovered heart,
fascinated by the longest sunsets.
I am a green permanent resident,
which rings more eternal than citizen.
The summer solstice is about distance,
angles. Pulsing with airports & amens
under the fog, I give up on endings.
You point, articulate: Ta-mal-pa-is.
Try mountains if you’re searching for soul. Break—
but don’t trust me on this. Most days, I don’t
venture out in twilight like hungry deer.

Venture out in twilight like hungry deer!
But don’t trust me on this. Most days, I don’t
try mountains. If you’re searching for soul, break.
You point: articulate Tamalpais
under the fog. I give up on endings,
angles. Pulsing with airports & amens,
the summer solstice is about distance
which rings. More eternal than citizen,
I am a green permanent resident,
fascinated by the longest sunsets.
Don’t mistake me for a recovered heart
with its dark wings, its five eyes, its toothed legs.
Here, the cricket repeats, somewhere, somewhere—
a litany. Banks fill with phosphorus.