crows

what I if had this watering can
was all I had
I walk through the valley
of dreams
this desert place
where atomic bombs went off
(and still do) I see
lands/times
 of fascism and bad weather
that  go hand in hand
like hands of scarecrows
holding/hiding from
the crows
flatlands
that extend forever
and suns that fall
under the ground
if this was a tabletop
then underneath
would be where my heart is
life goes round and round
bomb after bomb after bomb
till there is nothng
left but neolithic
watering cans

If I ventured out
would they put me in a jail?
If I danced
or played the trumpet too loud
or asked the wrong person for a dime
would they make a big thing out of it
and beat me to death?
If I went to the wrong party
of slept on the wrong sidewalk
would they beat my brains in
with  a blunt object?

This country is a war
in and of itself

  If I eat greens
I think they will grow?
yes? and water will come
out of the faucet/yes?
and fish (the fish are dying)
but the water it still grows
from trees

What if my life doesn't matter?
we all ask ourselves over the carcasses
dinner/carcasses/
love is human awareness 
not upturned