we tell the same stories
over and
over and
over and
over and
under and
under and
onto the rocks shores wells
deep
as caverns
deep
as devils
deep
as canyons and conches and caterwauls
and waterfalls
cascading lines of doggerrel can only go
so
far
the day we fell we fell
down
from the summit
down
from the heavens
blue sky all why and wherefore
and intellect so circumspect
into
the pit
of mud
what worth can anyone make
of mud
but mud
and clay
and homes
and dreams
and figurines
figurines that speak
like gods
and hear
like gods
silent and deaf
prayer after
prayer after
prayer
crashing like cataracts off boulders
over and
over and
over and
over and
over and
under again
we pray the same prayers sing
the same hymns want
the same wants and fears and no one nears and
no one hears
over and
over years
upon years
upon
hard clay ears
god is a desert all dried up
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