THE TRIBE

Or you could think of it this way

     I was studying the situation in the rain

I still felt the dry room, too long blending with a flower

     Ducks, I kept noticing them, too, their increasing IQs

The ferry-boat had crashed, we built fires to protect ourselves

     Great works, levitating above the book, the open hand

No boats left, the eyes turned colors unimagined by stars

     I dissolved out of sleep; the bees were already extinct