11.15.2005

Mars marches with the moon, horizon to horizon, all night long
When war makes a toy of thought, death makes toys of us

Coppery dot round disk crickets' slow roll illumine blue midnight
Proposals of emptiness all stared down by night's white pupil

The pills propose and prepare you, but the relentless heart allows you
Is counts it out, and works it out, is beats and beats it out to you