When I Struggled Out of My Hole

Done with the day I don’t work for money For what? You may as well Be wise as dead. Here we love the long engraved Dig them out with stones Come out of shadow Come out of soil Come out of bone I’m tired of life Whose fault is that? Turned toward the sea Gather snakeskin, teeth and shells Mountain-lipped and dry Make arrows of mahogany To kill the dreary missionaries Come out all faithful Come out and cry Cut up your dreams Take out your precious eyes Here they made baskets Gathered peppermint and sage Sinews of basalt and oak To sew into the dirt By moonlight we find their ghosts And follow where they’re going The line has disappeared Accept the broken deal Come out of smoke Come out of rain Come out of mud I wonder what it means Transit of the satellites From starlight into ceiling Come out of blood Come out of tears Come out of grief Bring them to heel What do you have to eat? Huddled in a heap All is possible and worse.