Heat it up in the sauna
To see what evaporates
You douse it in wet flames
of chilling water
you crisp its edges
to see what flakes off
you flip the switch
to see what does not turn on
you turn it over
to see what spills
you rattle its snake
to see its venom
then you clear it up
by smoking all its impurities out
and then you divine it
with dirt
to see what grows
For there is something
deranging
in removes the ranges
of the mountainsides
of words...
so that in the streams
of love,
only those streams
so impeded
are the very ones that
sing.