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The cacdamion is a noisy spirit
casting around in my kitchen
I leave some coffee grounds
on the morning paper for him to read
he used to go fishing in the rain
'til his boat came close to lightning
and he ran aground in rotting corn stocks
he liked to eat portabellos
all buttery the size of livers
this is a lesser banishing
for removing the head of a fish
scales peel off from a carbon base
while the inside of the eyes
paint the head with gentian violet
I row out in a pond of toads
each one sings with a jewel in its skull
reeling around in this ancient sink
flickering with golden inclusions
and gutted paper
a tar cloud threatens more rain
wash of delta in primal magma
dripping with popcorn crawdads
and juice of a sun fully risen
orchid root tucked in jeans pocket
oh deaf planet flecked with azure
I unearth your propeller and rise
beating the wind like eggs



fishing in the rain