That strange old viridian rooster has a pet city
whose people are electrical disturbances inside the Sun.
These people write tiny books from which my mind is born;
and the souls of forsaken love fly into the world from behind my eyes.

These souls and I make teas and liquors from fire’s flavors.
We fall through the floor unexpectedly, and land in places in Africa.
Sometimes lions sing fight songs to us from their concealments.
Sometimes the elephants show us the wings which are their secret power.