you should be a drop in the bucket
i should be over you
i thought i was
cluttered clusterfuck dream geography
to my left was a tree with little leaves
dark and heavy, drooping like benji
the houseplant, flush with unexpected vitality
an ancient tree, couldn't think back to its youth
seemed as if it had always been there, part of the landscape
seemed as if i'd stopped looking at it, but now i noticed
there were little figs here and there, figs!
when did that happen, figs?
i'd never seen them before and after all this time?
wasn't it fall or early winter in this tree's lifetime
and it had decided to grow figs now? how ridiculous
i hadn’t even known it was a fig tree, and the little green
bulbs
looked back at me inscrutably, pathetic fallacies
i looked at the tree and knew the roots went to kansas
in dream geography it seemed plainly logical
so i thought i would send you a letter
in amalgamation of thought and postal service and virtual
reality
to ask if you know about the tree, is it true
that the roots really reach to your ground?
blue's clues, silly whimsy
leave it to dreams...
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