There is a society of words

There is a society of words
It’s a sorcery of branches
There are crossings and snarls and interlacings
Of a sort of society
These are branches underwater
So-called friendships
Mostly ghastly traffic
A traffic of frogs kicking their legs
Under the earth of the water
The motes of it that color
And screaming birds
The flashier males shows off their iridescent trains
Underwars
Some of them have green eyes
Yellow eyes from long resentment
You must have the nose of a dog
I mean a snout
You become pretend basic
You become for real basic
You drown in the emptiness
Of what you can’t forgive yourself

You are a poet because you cannot speak

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