Deadwood Choir

Diving down the mantle
Swimming through the
Pool of hot stuff
Exotic matter

Well let’s see
A couch, blanket and flowers
And the sun —
Blatantly arous...

Does it rain within your world?
The sanguine clay and
My words unborn
Singing an ode, seeping in
Deserted souls —
O gentle breeze born afar the ridges...