Watch the Water

I cannot be deity,

for if I were,

I would take a sharp knife of smoke to every belly,

remove some unnecessary pocket,

and flay and flay,

to strips one cell thick,

lay that lightness across the hands of the living,

so that it is known.

then with clean hands I would sit and watch the water,

oh leap!

oh each set of three, all dancing,

every depth and peak like children,

growing as they grow,

moving like new-birthed beatles on migration,

earth is the canyon,

which is chiseled and memorized by the wind and by the river.

The plan is still.

The finished is nothing.