Scarecrow in Dark Glasses

The crow predicted your coming to this field

finding the USB cable in the softly whistling grass

which covers a cemetery of a thousand footsteps

the winsome passage of which you can hear even now

as when a salmon takes a violin from its case

& plays a music so sweet at the foot of your bed

that your skull fills up with the Indian Ocean

& you must beg beg beg those implacable hands

to let you come up for air