if only
you could tell me everyday

I would not have to revert
every now and then
to my cross-legged crouch
and curse idols
for not making be
what should have been

I could have saved
so many workman like sins
from going astray
so much time expended
in counting to the end of time

please forgive me
this penchant
for market fresh
farmers’ bitter peel
ignore this scream

so much salt-water
in this slipstream
of sky-chariots
that disgorge scorpions
and slippery snakes
into heavens full of holes

if only
you had collected the tolls