Inside out

Many loves bubble in the heart
new chasing old – as would one predator
another – from its territory.
The rivers binge on civilization,
slurping the periodic table whole,
lose pace
like memories with regrets turn into bogs.
The plants poison themselves
protecting from a herd
of gluttonous goats – chewing the gut away.
The blood caking their beards crimson stalactites stabbed into
the breast of eternity spilling time drop-by-drop.
The horns – long unused – bob
into existence as a swan song sweetening
in blood.
A flock of herons – white on garrulous green
crumpled like balls
of my many incomplete letters
lying in the corner of the weekly routine and schedule.
The frenzy of sunlight warming a cold summer
configuring the body into an arrangement of feelings
moving and yet still
like one of a blind person’s
housing the world within inhabiting everywhere.