The cattle and the stocked brigades

surfacing the waters of farm exegesis
to the cornered cow dreams

farms of marked indulgence
towers of commerce shake steadily
within steward sands and lost journals
gathered all around me, stalled in my shelves

with lies and asphalt thousands
she hasn’t had time to speak
but she remembers what she said

the shore is pretending to welcome
the honest person’s masked accompaniment
and orange trees like salmon conducting symphonies,
like regret in tune with the holistic burning
of stars without neglect of our petticoats
in the cold, cold ground; tomorrow
we rise from our slumber
and discuss our dreams with sober intent