What They Say
I've heard it said that the sky opens up
In Oklahoma - or is that Montana?
The body traced across this country
Suggests a girl with daisies in sunflower
Fields, where we search for the fisted hero
Who gathers carts in superstore lots.
Someone once told me that in the bayou
Where Texas meets Louisiana there
Exist hundreds of miles of refineries:
A post-apocalypse landscape where
A brief flash of beauty burns the retinas.
Someone once told me, "More people hate us
Than love us." And so it may be. But tend
Your garden of strawberries and daisies,
Make it as familiar as a wood spoon
Cooked with many years, nicked, cracked, and brown
With soups, oils, and burns. Then you will know
When you do see the sky open up,
When the sun is just right, the contours
Of heaven yield nothing to what they say.