Temple

When the robin returns to view

And in the city pigeons start picking

Again at the breadcrumbs

I would hasten to the court;

I would memorialise

For the right to build me a temple.

There, high beyond the reach of government;

A valley lies between two skyscraper mountains

Why not dwell there?

All mythology is not so ordinary,

And all the great writings come from

An original folklore.

Who cares about religious toleration;

The rectification of names is a scam

As all words are solid as.

What mode shall we borrow

What tune shall we build upon

For this, our literature?

I do not know much about things.

What I think or think I think is not mine

But I go with what I'm told.

Days and days of rain do not disturb

The black squirrel anymore than

He's already used to.

There is a right and a wrong

But there is also a reversal of them;

We're all so confusing.