Where Weeds Obtain

Even though copper
Sells everywhere--
Dubichev: Human
Consciousness tries
Not to focus on
These problems,
Never to encounter them.
Tveretinov: There is
No future here, no
Need for people anymore.--
Two hundred forty eight
Fetuses found in the
Forest outside
Lyovikha ought not to
Go unnoticed.

Expanding Herbaceous Borders

Around this moment,
An idea in a brain, container
Seeking a shape contained,
Have I been more,
More than petals, fur, clouds
In an inland herd?
Have I been a bird?
Or more, in this thing
Thinking things, have
I ever flown before, me?
Among hills, seas,
Voices yet to be,
Have I soared over night,
Unlit rocks, snow-caps --a
Thing flying deaf from
Time's collapse upon
A path of lightning?
Maybe periwinkle or
Something blue beside
The gate, will do.