The bright green bulbs of apples crop up overnight.
I didn’t dream their soggy thup on the lawn
or the tree’s tarnished sconces for those home-grown bulbs
that dawn kindles, then eclipses.

Human bodies are different from one another
But their souls are all alike, filled with brilliant uses
Like airports.

My black-lettered Hebrew Bible, dense 
and doughty as a cobble. The Bible in Hebrew—irreducible!
Yet at the first verse, a hair-thin net of cracks
appears, each crack a vast highway, and wildly we leap 

The limbs of the giant spruce that leans
  So close to the house, have formed
A kind of stair, a walkway

After you’ve become a human drum
to let high frequency thrumming
create magnetic pictures of your
brain, you examine the evidence,

They are not hard to get to know:
6 and 9 keep changing their minds,
8 cuts the most graceful figure
but sleeps for an eternity,

Here bricks are so rare they are like agates
We wonder who would carry them so far
Here I feel good because I have nothing
I am thinking about

I drink
make Yuri cry
get scared, lose heart

The planets whirled across the blackboard all morning, 
Saturn with its twelve rings, Jupiter with its belts,
red Mars, green Venus, the familiar blue Earth
where we sat in that eighth-grade class learning light

Faring
and with a full tank:
                              past death regardless