Exhibit Z, cyan(ide) waters
Today there was a dog, green
paws from the little life that grows
as scum along the edge of this pond.
Burrow into the seperations and take
what lies there, dog. And the reverse
which makes the theorem true.
Loved as the single swallow
in the line of flight, fire, throat,
fall, this little mention of air, split
by wings, carved with feathers. Only,
this time, the air acts as air should
and comes back to itself.
The mist parts like a live thing
and reknits, zipperlike.
Today, there was a god.
Paws blue with poison.
1995