In the Landscape of Cantaloupes
It learns while you learn
In the impossible dream of a mind on top of a tongue,
The landscape of cantaloupes
In the summer-fall.
The birds watch clamming towards barn sales.
My mother was a banjo up until the age of nine.
My father took the goat and sailed to a planet northward
When he was five.
When he was five,
When he was five,
When he was my age at the age of five and I became lonely
And felt much like now.
Yes I have,
I have written this poem many in anothertimesandnother.
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