i set up a hammock
someone else's hammock
didn't build the damn thing
over a fire
at the edge of spring
ancestors burning in purple oil
didn't want to say anything
just drop my seeds
and swing
swing
warm my ass molten
thread my long hair into songs
grow old with the net
woven by those who titter
in the forest i painted
in black and white
and gold
bright gold
they caught me
easy
one day i will be an ancestor
gonna make me a hammock
sit at my bench
grind primitive tension
to dust i don't know
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