joy

Whatever hides better
noise in the sound or
sounds in the noise of the waves
many a cactus is
proliferating on the pacific
poison the egrets
have been collecting for
centuries

Construction sites are
for infants to play to utter
loose words of joy of which
many an egret dies

Virginal feet bug the shingles of the roofs
the waterfalls in the shadows of
congealing idols whose sacred language
doesn’t have any word for soul

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