Untitled Poems III & IV
August 16, 2022
                                                                    
                                                                                                
                                
III.
People are asses. I hang bells from their necks so they can sing to me while I recline on a rock.
People are fools. I’ll hang them up in the wardrobe like winter clothes.
May’s barley is about to ripen. Each stalk has lined up its seeds in orderly fashion so ...