there is no landscape but
a row of black I totem poles
absolution dogs us in complex fugues
played on a mole’s sleeping belly
mad frogs wearing unreliable diapers
augur a couple more dimensions
in which we thrive like ferns in giant forests
(we eat the lumens)
and keep patenting that impossible is nothing
![](https://i0.wp.com/kamielchoi.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/03/20131220015642Matisse_Les_toits.jpg?fit=520%2C429&ssl=1)
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