A bird has flown through the stone heart stone, stone heart.

Now it bleeds through the cracks, it bleeds, I bleed with it.

Now passersby see the blue sky through a bird window, a window in stone.

The cure for anything is salt water - sweat, tears, or the sea – Isak Dinesen

Since the sea is too distant From this landlocked city For drowning in,

And tears merely inappropriate For this green summer with its nesting Cardinals breakfasting at the bird feeder,

I have turned to sprinting For the requisite salt.

Is not that one blessed morning,
Grazed by a prophet’s finger,
He began to see

But the realization that he
Was not seeing all along
Until the instant he stepped into
A pile of dog shit and acquired
A shirt of buzzing f-
lies.