the countryside
is being eaten by the very structure
that we lean on
love letters for bonfires
and campfire songs for city children

no where to run
distance ourselves
by the balanced crops of thought
till the field
no where to run
you were never there

the oceanside
is being torn down by the
countless drops of blackness feeding
filtration for the domestication of diseases

you'll lose your balance
on this rope
broncos with cavalry bringing me home