Verbal Theaters
moons and ticket lines of expectant eyes
and a system that deciphers sound
We are lost in verbal theaters, tribal dances
and constant swallowing
There are fortunes in the mountains
and there are donkeys that will take you
and leave you
in the mountains
Wine parched poets will talk to you
ask you to buy automobiles
and memorize the names of hotels
where you washed your face and changed your clothes
they will spread oil paintings and manuscripts
across your sleeping eyes
and listen
while dreams return
to their rushing silence.
