Thank god for this head
If it wasn’t for imagination
I’d probably be dead
I can take a long vacation
Sitting at the kitchen table
Visit foreign lands and times
In my head I’m well and able
Tackling hills I want to climb
I’m glad my head protects me so
Shows me movies, gives me pleasure
There’s nowhere I cannot go
Sitting home while at my leisure


in the grass
lies skull of fox
and one of sheep
both climbed high
upon the hill
yet one climbed steep
and each decided
where to stop
and where to lie
upon the grass
and where they chose
they lay to die

it’s good to know
the shape and form
of one’s own skull
where side plates join
the ridge and crop
and where the rocks
stud growing grass
to know its hull
and sense its husk
its blackest holes
and highest peaks
from which to view
the fields below
where river runs
a squiggly line
that splits square fields
inscribes bleached hulls
bisects wild skulls