the white moss stairs in the midnight wood   make a favourite stoop for the black rabbits   and    we spill our seeds on the mica pavement.   so the mighty sequioa screams out branches   one hundred years from now.   they will save us from falling comets   we will hang our heads in shame   with a baritone earth-hum.      you are the rabbit stuck in the hole   i am a wolf and i am running to you   you are the acid in the sunrise   i am the birch tree falling apart.      i smoke like a barrel when i shot you up   full of bite and absolutely no fucking bark