is this, dear, our permutation?

1/7/06

only the natural woodsnap proper for this place
a crack in the air

no-one
hears that
from me!
only thing alive!

and in this tornado
like the squeal of swine within
I’m the only animal
awash in a frothy spit of trees
; fir needles

and the branches as they snap they do make a noise
; but
like a whip upon
a ship
to nowhere
straining at its bindings my back
ready to explode
dry
dry
like
everything so
dry
like a powder-keg parched
on
the flint but it can’t
for I’m ready to explode

the only one?