There are bodies that stay home and keep living.
Wisteria and Queen Anne’s Lace
But women and children too.
And countless men at gasoline stations.
Schoolteachers who resemble candles,
Boys with metabolisms geared to the future,
Musicians trying for moon effects…
The sky, which cannot expire, readies itself with clouds
Or a perfect blue
Or halos or the amoebic shapes
Of things to come.
The railway weeds are filled with water.
How do living things carry particles
Of sacrifice? Why are gods talking in the corn ?
Enough to feel the future underfoot.
Someone is crying three houses down.
Many are gone or are going.