You choose:
King Koin Looking Horse
(I never said "or")
The Missouri temps delineation between the keeper of
quarters in Gettysburg
and the Keepers of the Pipe in Green Grass.
South Dakota sky is a given.
Think of this:
a Leaf falls here, a fly lands there.
Everywhere
the persistence of the killdeer.
First world, Second World, Third World
parks, Factories, fleas
Third World, Second World, First World
rice, noise, dice.
You counter:
To hell with labels.
When one lives between the not-so-distant then
and the far-off if
bones break, dreams die.
Hells not a label
but hanging from the rafters of a conditional
by a broken toe.
The self's neither here nor there
(even cliche's cover their ears).
If you find a place where kids cling to you like
cockleburs and flies outnumber dreams, consider yourself not
in any other world but ours then, you might die with so much
joy.