And

Give us water and food to pursue our tasks. Help us not become wards of the state, impoverished, homeless, destitute, crushed under the heel, buried in systems, imprisoned, dead, hospitalized. We die die die. Our dogs will not walk themselves after we go. Our bodies will not burn themselves after we go. Our apartments will not pack themselves after we die. Instead, bright ribbons of work, tangled in our bodies, will be vomited out and indeed bright ribbons will be vomited out. In the meantime, the light’s eyelashes open and close. And in the meantime, work and reprieve. Lie down; don’t lie; lie flat; lie still. See these books bound in itching white leather? They are your life. And each feathery page, lifted by hot wind. O summer air, o gardens, o seasons ô châteaux. The glaring day, it binds, o occurrence, o soil o soul.