i saw candy glass
forming at the mouth of the god
residing thus
among the wet benefactors
down at the bog
this sugar stew
was made by a legion of microcons
each and every one
felt put upon
they peed like fountains
northern ice
receded onto the missoula plain
where the granite growls
winter's rain
and spring time's growing pains
and the memory of the early days
and the shining rays
and the mother earth
still shock us in the afterbirth
when the mouth of god
was the breast of god
and i was sleeping
in the candy glass
***
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