the very place that
the mice run
cooling wells of trait
making things
great things
we sing to each other
on the cooing nights
those paper umbrella’ed cups
fixing music together like vines
clasping to the side of the building
fixing it to the wall with fever
(before the chicken and eggs
arrived to consider, they had already invented philosophers)
I want to sing, sing, sing, sing
making things
golden bright things that children can pick from trees
that float in the sky
elephants and geese attending weddings
fish and dancing