Poem Beginning with a Line by Farough Farrokhzad

let us believe in the ruined gardens of imagination

even in autumn rain there’s still such radiance

leaves underfoot whisper my wishbone song

really just a rhythm imposed on the slow fires of decay

but now church bells make for a glistening listen

the dead have nothing and everything to do

with the emptiness of numbers

their carnival is upon us scarlet oaks glowing

on a mountainside of charred pine stumps

witch hazels dangling sun-colored sex flags

and a woodpecker sounding like a clown on amphetamines

my phone can find the bleakest news in seconds

a shaggy mane mushroom dissolves into ink