all trees are oaks all birds are blue in the mountains of a magnet are the mountains of you i`m proud of my genius just like a painter and dumb like a poet i think i can just say it from the throats of our wrists with full sets of teeth vanilla almond teeth from vanilla almond tea spent afternoons measuring time in spoons a southern run for a late longing to drink what`s 80 miles in canada or 18 years in the mountains where all trees are oaks and all birds are blue, ach` du i thought everyone was you where forget-me-nots and marigolds and other things that don`t get old don`t get old between one june and september you`re all i remember but i`m a lantern, my head a moon i married a room where i`ll at least keep my hands in order and what about the air, lying awake.
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