We came home early expecting to hear new songs

We wanted to smell barbeque on approach

You were smoking in your tent

You were kicking blankets all over the ground 

The lamp fell and then you were quiet 

I craved your pulse as I studied you in sleep 

I wanted to follow the rules of speed 

The rules of broaching new standards on the soul 

We laughed a lot in the greenhouse 

Paper money confetti blustered inside the glass  

You put your favorite pair of black boots under your head in the sun 

Circuits and wire cutters 

The chainsaw on the table 

Nobody has shown me how to use them 

Rivers don’t make sense from airplanes  

Browned as they become by their length 

All those present both in and out of presence of mind 

Crescendos billowing out of black holes 

We were both men and you needed to teach me something  

I have to knit socks now for winter 

I have to listen hard and find places to crash