there's a fucking forest

the trashed-out car is,
though it's not moved for a year or two,
still a vehicle of eras that constant abide,
(between each, bijou to bijou),
as fog-soaked language passes the divide.

dandelion blossom as bright as the sun,
(you know)
distant-sourced photons make life, one to one,
grass-fed beef complements a vegetarian diet,
you all should try it.

finally, a hundred-hundred folklores
from far-flung shores cross-globe
can document the microbe,
enunciate the concept of infinity,
don't talk to me about a tree of humanity,
there's a fucking forest

there's a fucking forest
since time time time immemorial
there's been an inevitable progress
that can only ever orbit a lifespan
flourish before sinking back down
in the voiceless firmament

but how do you pay the rent?

there's a fucking forest
Chinese gods process

'I have heard the pigeons of the seven woods
 Make faint thunder,'
hate any 'greats'
that's WB Yeats