god can be true the wrong pitch frantic stall
from a star ledge in the ocean fall
can’t stand another scald day in spring’s pouch
the otter skin roofs canal colour walls
rain like locks rise from hot decompose
and opens an april shower
champing train riven the wood
my lamp and grove tears for a tricky birth
her squoze notes alight in canopy
god can be true the pull up pull up
from the planet black in which gulls drop
