dead leaves and the dirty ground

so that cigarette you thought you wanted
and eventually got in a pure act of sneakitude
didn't fix that headache
and now you're not sure what's wrong with you
or if you'll ever be un-tired again

but

now we don't put much stock in the poets
in their iambs and so on
but oh
oh
oh
oooooooh
have i told you about the sky out here at night?

f u c k i t i s n ' t o r a n g e
saw every single constellation you could think of last night
pinhead clear and sparkling
the swan and both dippers
orion and the bear
all up there twinkling
like twinkling is still a thing you can do in this day and age

so much that if john donne or even that idiot wordsworth
were to sneak up behind me
and whisper something about the majesty of nature
i would hear it
and
possibly believe it

the veins of twigs and branches
the slashes of trunks across the sky
thrown up against the convex lens above us
AND THE WIND
the lone voice in the silent woods
roaring down the backroads with something to say
shouting

hey! hey! hey!

be afraid, be very afraid

there's something coming out of the trees

put that cigarette out behind a rock to hide the evidence
kick your boots off at the door
wrap yourself up tight in that blanket
and watch the creeping woods
til you can watch no more