you displace your disposition
and deny your basic front
to be a pattern of persuasion
of a letter carried son
a fed up traveler having no fun
or pastures plowed in the summer months
the town is far away now
so take me out
upside turned around
my palms of sweaty
and i’m nearly broken now
and sending messages abroad
or casting calls out of a cloud
the rain collects and floods
you never know what lies
beneath, upon, or behind