Parading

You ask the secret.

tell me how / to turn my head to listen,

And who has made hymns fit for the earth? for I am mad with devouring

what it leaves behind. I used to think

—just send me down forgiveness, send me down

Such certainty is beautiful,

The way a plastic lemon full of rags will drop,

you drank coffee through a straw but it was more like

Because living is one of the best things       I go over

What made me fill myself with me so squarely?