In A Garden Barely Looked At

All of this took place before your birth
and your conception had no merit
it was just another phase of time
like the cornfields lushly planted
in the middle of Montana
in the dusk
the yellow straw
caught on fire

i hope i never see the steam rise again
from the sewers of the cities I once knew

my face is part-boiled scarred from the ride
from the sadness of seeing things I've seen

Mirrors on the outside
nodding in a garden barely looked at
sitting steaming freezing in the rain
how does all the grass withstand this change?
what pain lies beneath the surface of the ground
not the weeds that poke its show
not darkness, no
not loss

and i hope i never see the rusted metal frames
of the building holding thousands at it's whim

my face is part-boiled scarred from the ride
from the sadness of seeing things I've seen

I have never seen things so green
in all my life--is this right?
is this right?
barely wakened, loudly moaning
men rise from their beds to see this light