You ask:

Hey, man, what do you need?
I'm only asking as a favor
but if Dick ever finds out
I'm history cuz he don't do
business with deadbeats.

I say, Talk to the trees.

"Reach!" you cry when the copse
creaks ready to draw a bead.

Eggs fly, mama birds cry,
squirrels slip and even termites
lose their grip when the limbs
go high--Reach!--tree branch undersides
glow like pale armpits exposed to the sky.

You say:

"I told you--no trees! Now leave..."

sep 9 2000

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