Sweet pollen and the
Radiance among stars
And the cosmos.
I look across the desert
Where devil coyotes feed
Off the celestial sheep.
The mountains are like
Gaps in my memory.
Evenly spaced, filled
With dust, cosmos dust
Filtered from the heavens
And there is a
Damp, hollow cigarette burn
The acoustic black holes
Imprint on vast oceans
And now my eyes
are closed and I sleep
for one hundred years,
waiting,
waiting
Until I rid myself of the
Texture of honey marshmallows
Because none of this is
Sweet.