If you are able, find a patch of clean earth
Where the grass has not been cut
And no roads have been built.
Lie down and close your eyes
And do not rise until the dampness of the soil seeps through your clothes
And cools your body.
Until you hear the sounds of the crickets rustling past
And feel the ants crawling over your neck.
And even then, if you can, stay awhile.
I'm only writing this in hopes that you'll notice my intellect.
A list of objects and compound objects:
Thirty three balloons.
An empty room with blue walls.
Two bowls, nested.
A broken tape player.
A fir tree in winter.
A fur coat in tatters.