In our music there shall  be a free fall
A defeat of thought, a soft sweetness
Born in a dew of grass raising its head
A belly fear of  depths from a balcony.

Our music shall open  cities to nights
To daub them with a  gray sky-paint
Its breeze shall flow with the flowers
Creeping gently upon our new leaves
Their colors flying to the sky upwards

In our music the dog shall sing of fear
From  early morning snouts of victory
Sniffing pant-legs of sweaty belly song
A faery song , an act  of soft celebration
A scratching of paw in its carnal space
A defeat of reason,a breakdown of logic
A cause of no effect, effect of no cause
A breakdown of sound, a fear of silence.

Our book shall  wonder open mouthed
Its brittle spine flowing in silver worms
Its words dripping from its sticky edges
Like a baby's saliva from its earliest lips
In a drool of free fall , a music of hunger
A cry into the  empty room of no mother
A free fall of pudgy baby hands in piss.

There shall be a free fall of sound from
The cuckoo to  its babies of early rain
In  crow's nests and a free fall of chicks
Open hungry mouths in early wonder .

Books remain open with their wonder
As shadows from windows soft- touch
Their souls ,as their music is free falling
From the side of a broken summer sky.

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