There are no birds on Jupiter 

& water is light years away

What is moved by water cannot be 

moved by light. When light enters 

water it slows down & changes 

course. Hunger is often enough 

to make water into light. Your body 

is a bird that enters my river 

to find a lamp like a last word 

over the whipping tongue 

of each wave. What maker 

makes the unmoving move 

& the moving still? If you look 

into a mirror, why do you expect

to see someone else? You look 

for an ocean because you possess

compass & raft. Light is a wave 

without liquidity. Day in day out 

even nights sometimes I farm 

my loneliness until it is a herd 

pounding along the paddocks 

raised with love to be slaughtered 

with love. The world eats the world

& is full of itself. Why choose 

flow over lull? I want to be still

with you in the great red storm

raging for a thousand years. 

Sixty-seven moons rising 

over our faces. All quiet, 

waterless, lightless, we will

make the wind our library.