< from THE IDEOGRAMS by matthew rohrer >

Use shoes as a pillow beside the lake,
and sleep, sleep, beneath the airplanes sleep
on the moist grass, until the clouds become criminal.
You have suffered armored wings for twenty years.
Eating and dancing like an orangutan, you are mired
in the crops. In your pathetic armor
you are like a fat man fallen partway through the floor
while watching TV.
Passion! Passion! You can unfurl your passion.
Churches are less forcefull now.
You can pretend to have serious phantoms.