A hot and torrid bloom

Which fans wise flames

And begs to be redeemed by forces black and strong

Will now oppose my naked will

And force me into regions of despair

More than iron

More than lead

More than gold I need electricity

I need it more than I need lamb or pork or lettuce or cucumber

I need it for my dreams

Blue potatoes are ungainly things

As are red and purple lamb chops

Yet when we eat and creep and fall

We never ask a silent question

An eagle flies high, it flies higher than a sea gull

But the crow wings rapidly from tree to bush to hedge

The same can be true of life and of death

Sometimes life flies high, sometimes death wings rapidly

Sometimes it is spoken

That death wings from tree to bush to hedge

Sometimes it does not

Blissful quiet, the rocking of a recent love

Is both repose and anguish in my fainting dreams