Forest Fire

The muddy forest-floor,

all deerpaths and beer cans,

conceals a cremation ground.

Hashish-high on holy fear,

I heard the birds cry her name

and offer a poem to her sunflower feet.

 

a poem

of roasting meat

and dripping grease

offered in the night

and the forest filling

the whole earth

with sacred terror

 

This poem is secret:

Unabomber fantasies bound gagged and burned

hidden forever in these holy woods.

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