all these dreams

all these dreams
all these wasted minstrels
kick this rotten globe
down the fields and alleys
down the ravines and ravenous streams

at least
they are having fun

and all these dead words
end in the ocean which reclaims them
renames them

they polish the stones
at ocean's depth
relinquish life and pride
Muzzein out and up
to challenge the sun
in its rejoicing