DOWSE



where is the hawk now
she floats
she ran off to the farm
w/ pockets full of gold
they are all
Swedish ladies i guess
street dancing country rubies
i dream smooth smoke
saw Rosie swanning at the water hole
you don't know
where all my gals put their neck
read my future off
another dusty poem
i am following the river
i am cutting down jungle
lost in Columbia
because the sun is not on earth
because earth is not in my spit
i am not going to
believe myself when she comes
back but she faiths me 
smiles can bust the stone off me
gravel my silly hills
you don't cliff well
or i am wasting all my jump
the desire to hang
i am around
satellite for the youth you stole
please sunday me
walk over my rug
feel the rope in your hands
i doubt i am worth
my own weight in air
but she is here or her hair smells
like a warning
i am dirt because she says so
i am sorry i didn't mean to
sad this
ok i can work on another fracture
it is easy to find them
all huddled together under the lights
this new storm rages
i won't take cover
because i don't give a fuck