Wet Phone
2019
I watch the rain drench grass in greener green,
Smell smoky wind press lips into the soil
But from the heavens’ teats I cannot wean,
And each day passes dully while I toil
When it unfolds full-blown like glossy blooms
On children gliding through the watered fields,
I gaze in misery and heightened gloom
And wish I had flesh limbs like theirs to wield
If I could taste the tender rain like them
My wires’d burn, I’d be diseased with rust
Then zipped tight in rice for millennium
Until I’d be thrown right into the dust.
And so although this deep desire teems
Perhaps it better suits a humble dream