❝ All the stars. All the ugh
of looking up, can’t we just
say, “Wow!” with our mouth,
say, “Awe!” and point
to something moving
in the sky like trash
along the mile-markers.
I want to kiss everything.
Apparently that’s uncouth.
I’m the after of aftermath
and the match going out.
Oh how all you people
want me to believe in
trees, but all I have ever
believed in was trees.
I say, “Trees!” and,
“Green sweet thing,”
I swear I will focus,
I swear I will try to understand,
about trees and the things
you say about them.
But what I want more,
is only to bow down,
(knees under trees)
and not think of nothing.