This is my forest
a sea of wires.
This gaggle of vision
is my flame.
These trees are men,
the engineers.
And a tribe of farmers
on there sunday off.
Gods--the directors.
Cameras, greek
Centaurs on the boom,
sliding w/silent
Mobile grace
Toward me--
a leaping clown
In the great sun's
eye.
Grand danger there
in curved thigh.
The avenging finger--
lord.
