Hairy Stream

You could hike over it, the you

without a problem, its mountain

viewed from the closet

coats are found in, your constant

Yes/No a hee-haw, a mule alert

that’s pasture-perfect,

a coronary at the last corner.

Nobody’s framing you for the chintz-

covered wall to cover the leak.

Besides, you like leaks, you’re inside

the view as if hibernating

or crazy, you try not to erupt.

Hypothesize the rest,

the languor and freshet,

the crags, the serrated parade.

So — heights? What about the hairy stream,

the pushed-up bushes saying Pet me?

You got a problem with that?

Cascade is what you call it

a voice off the hanger, the blouse

cast in a corner or animate.