Anise fills my mouth
While the words I speak
Stream
Surrounded
By the leaves of May’s gold
Cloaking treetops
Every little photon a bomb
Napalming and dancing along
So much more to go
Suddenly
As the song of fission
Must go on
Down veins
Down vessels
Arteries of firs
And these tall creatures
Tasting the clouds
As dusk rolls by
Turning the taste in their mouths
Specters of ichor float freely
As hot snow pollen
Of the trees’ telemetry
Radiolaria by another name
Ingrained with black anise
Blasting posthaste
Consume Reality! 