082713 #bunny #elephant a howl of triviality. a whole barn of nothing but straw and hay and bugs and dirt and slivers and pebbles and pellets and musk and air and grass and prickers and stickers and beggarlice and moonlight and slats and treble cheering and laughing, licking toward you over the amaranthine field. lightning somewhere, faraway and big. heat lightning, they'll call it, the barn dancers, and they won't stop, they won't stop for lightning, even when it resolves into crackling forks, even when it grows demonic, inhumane, even when it brings its boulder-headed friend the thunder, when the whips of water come, the sheets, the hail, the torrents, and even when the mud grows bigger than the sky, they just keep dancing, even when the solid pulse of the drums is drowned, even when it's insane to be out here in weather like this. because that's what they do. it's not work, it's not art, they didn't plan it this way, but they open their legs and their coats and their gauzy, sweaty, rainstreaked and mudsmeared souls to it. fuck them. i mean that in a good way. fuck them. please. one more time. for me.