he saw great, green plains clumped with patched forest; roaming caribou and knew this was not the Euphrates
ó, never be
& by the by patchwork shaded over clouds clouded over. and the name of god was lost
the sky darkened. darker than quilted dream-fabric
until a modern prophet, a wrinkled son lost his tamagotchi (at the side of a stream,) watched by caribou
a little further then, when tall colonaded mansions crumbled relative to Dirac’s constant
he watched the integration of an empty set ⊃ the lie of union
after starting, settled down so close, slowly, nose to the ground hesitate to movement but moving closer till with outstretched hand (& cue music) reach out touching cold, metal, muzzle
this is the deer’s prophecy: "be honest, not rude" but they were gone, galloping through wild pine forest