One informs the other
as lumber informs
the fire of a bivouac encampment.
Hell, the way any
the flames, wherever it may be.
Silent lips mouthing incantations
the mystic rocks to and fro dancing
out his Hail Mary’s, he could have been
Elvis for all I knew there rocking out
at his own concert
The same way Rumi just damn existed, guys.
It doesn’t matter because it matters only
the matters that consume us,
even litter is flammable:
I am boxes fit for the landfill eagerly awaiting