Forest Preserve  


you’re not the only one

you are the one and only

madness along the horizon

madness in your eyes

some something and everything

dressed up in a symphony of sin

nursery rhymes out of mind

to feel this alive

you have to live

like a philosopher

die a scribe


the last monkey remains in the cage

the 6:30 train back from Spokane

the best guess you made

it’s not enough and it will have to do

not a single epistle or threadbare preacher

can sermonize it for you

draw and quarter your own conclusions


militant oaks and elms have had enough

they’re marching out of the woods

striking to preserve their kin

from the acts of kindness we routinely visit on them