THE MACHINE, THE EXPLODING WHALE, and THE MOST BEAUTIFUL DAY
The sleepy machine
passes slowly over us,
a simple god,
warming the sun’s reflection
into a gentle taste.
I get lost in its generosity
and begin walking Underground.
Underground is a purple place
where the statues fall.
I only come here
when I think of the same thing too long.
The statues today
talked about climbing
the Founding River.
It was a bad idea
but the sun was still
in my mouth, and I went on.
It was square and straight.
The end was a window
where I saw the machine
dance lazily,
eclipsing the sun.