Leaf pile burning on
the side of the road
The carbon wanted to be free
in the wind
like it was on the tree
Put us all to sleep
Golden corn husk sleeping bags
we’ll be tamales in the spring
I can’t wait ‘til then
Several local murders
in keeping with the season
where everything dies,
everything dies, everything dies
Only some are born again
(Not the humans)
The only time we sit around is
every single day,
staring at our own brains
The mind reflects the eye,
reflects the mind, reflects the eye
in an infinite hall
like the TV at the mall
I am calling for the last time
I’ll be resting my eyes

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