its 10:02 pm in august
im walking circles in the yard
because the dog won’t pee
& between the voice upstairs
& chicada speak
& this strange smell of burning plastic
the earth, it’s vibrance, and the vibration of every living thing
becomes clear
these blades of grass never knew streetlight for
they were born pure
& the fly never knew the drain or rain like the faucet above
& i fear no pain
for there is no cause of death that haunts me anymore
i can feel them all a thousand years from now when only this nothingness persists in the seeds of men
& the blades of grass laugh
not weep
streetlights weep