food, tooth and black beer

the order of
experience, the raw
field, the salvaged
lot, this open, empty
parking lot,
it,
that is the grass
the sundown sky
unfurls-
opens to the wind
in evening, and
vitalizes, activates
each stone toward
words and
words
each a fruit
a berry, warm
in the,
mouth,
opening, seeding
the stomach with its
extremities of being,
softly arching
and combining its
soil story with
my story
a man made of
empty narrative and
expanding sky.