1185

THE RIGHT LIGHT REFT THE LEFT

Somehow the stuffed bunny made
All my gestures to be different
Less annoying. And then I flew
Up into the canyon, rolling
Left a ways like a table
Across the fellowship hall,
Like my faith that what I hear
Tells what I need to say
Where to get off, how to
Stop buying the same guide book
When I want to keep riding
The current into the fog,
Settling on the prow of a tanker
In between crab hunts. This is
Just a kind of fun I used to have,
Chasing myself down corridors
Where the little refrigerators
Keep sodas and peanut butter
Still, and West Virginia
Handshakes open like clouds
To the spirit as seen in sun.