I don't get it, but
at least when we
were skulking around the drainage ditch
and you were showing me bits of
dead rats already chewed over
and I was rolling my eyes
at tree lines already chewed over
we were both exhausted with
the tiredness of winter skies
and pressing for reasons to never
go home again
and I will be,
holy god damn it,
never the same for that hour when
we got each other
better than anyone not
us two, a pea and a sod,
a pair of clods,
knocking on heaven's door
because we had nothing better to do.
