Hollow Mountain, That Holy Mountain

Everything I’ve  ever known to be  true is barefoot in grass with me     stomping the chapped geese   feathers. I passed a dead bird.    Then I passed a blue bird. Loose here.  And the bratty tree fingers giggling, churning.    If the monkey in your dream was on a leash it   forecasts happiness in love what a dream book that   was. We made enough money to play with infinity. Enough   monkeys on leashes to call it a wedding. I’m not jaded I’m perfect.    I’m taking today for several walks. The new Drake is awful and   soothing who do you chain to buildings, romance me. We had enough feet   in the grass to get back to get back to back loose / here The crisis is   this brittle nostalgia for where is the bright of nississippi is    the risk is it loose here? His dad beat his mom and him and the overseer beat    his dad he beat my mom and then the old bombs are stored in a hollow   mountain whose peaks pray for obsolesce and I sent him there and now I  dream of rabid animals who turn into men and follow me to that Holy mountain       that hollow mountain I never asked to be a bride I never trusted the ones who weren’t belligerent    and stumbling into to fortunes or furnaces, you know. I fed the baboon in my dream it bit my nipple and screamed with laughter    then flung itself into the explosive hollow of that holy mountain