a wheat field is a chaos crowd
rioting between the sweat of the earth: whats damp.
in the earth's armpits there are seaweeds
and the moon is a lamp.
the longer your life, the slower you move.
a tree is vibrating with anxiety
and a fly will walk along the leaf like it didn't exist
except to cause a slim itch on the stiff limbs
and germs on the human palms
are like fasteners on the foot of a mantis, insignificant,
and the tree does not catch cold, it suffers quietly
robots open their lips, they dim their eyes
robots open their chests to collect dead limbs
from the human with departing skin.
The corpse will live in him,
and God will live in them --
the corpse in the corpse --
someday in a coffin --