The Deluge and the Seed

Haunting movements in the soils
The goals of gulls and man
Days, still as furniture
Soaked in sentiment's habit
Habitual futility behind dreams
These leaves, among others
Circle me
Trunk of a tree.

I see the gouging paradox
Eyes wet in the celebration
Musky storm-soaked thickets
A muddy flow from the forests
The nipple and the moon -- before
Cement chilled the puzzled toes
That pressed into the sharpened stone.

I weep in knotted stomach munch
As gargoyles push popcorn postcards
For the beauty pageants of polyester lawyers.
I the wheelbarrow roll awkward
Rusting in the sea-wet stench of midnight
And the beer-soaked breeze of company
Fasting -- amidst the herds' yellowed grass.

Can we obtain rather than describe?
Will we change, not chide, then hide?
I ache from the stairs of slippery boulders
And lap up the river's poison
Flailing my salmon-crystal tail
upstream, blind to the shore
The deluge and the seed.