Land

This the land of sacred parts,
the range of the smooth grains
in other words:
great sand in these parts.

On which the great rain falls
green train farms, America is limbic
& bank alarms, calls from here to there
to establish the veracity of the crime
the crime the crime.
The soul, the wine.
Watch time unwind--so trite--but seriously
I have a ball of twine called TIME &
daily I unwind it. One side of the room,
other side of the room. Its width is
how much time we have left. Its length
is how pregnant are these next thoughts:
the thoughts lent to one another,
conversation, is mental pollination.
I leave the room silent like poison gas
or a mathematically perfect ass
(although Seife is right that there's no
formula thereof) -- This sentence's
beginning was unexpectedly dark.
Sometimes our convo turns that way, Rachel,
these are real names of people I've consulted
with in real life, in dreams, in imagination.
My friend told me she saw Imaginarium of Dr.
Parnassus. I said did you know that was Heath
Ledger's last movie? She said yes. Then said,
"He is so sexy." I said, “You mean, he was.”