Earth sleep

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If I were the Earth asleep

Laying down my mountain ridge

Wanting hard to bury deep

In the folds of ground-old age


What do I do when stirring

At the people who poke me

Climb all over conferring

Dig their pincers in slowly


I turn over and grumble

Grouse and groan I get angry

Slapping out in my slumber

At specks on these seabed sheets


Only then do I really shout

Oh my god have you no shame

My rage clouds my blood gets hot

Stop it — I am trying to dream



Durham, New Hampshire — October 12 2024

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