Liberties There's nothing Artificial about our Intelligence

        Night.       The bridge’s scent.       The fence lets in roots.       Water shines for the earth.       A listening stone.       A hair sings.       Night.       Road.       Your own knees lost in suppositions.       There is no separate green.         A different epoch of the hand,       a different time of swaying.         Moths and stars       watch each other;       they point crosswise       to night’s rims of horizons       a glass jar.       Night.       Now we all grow together, we rotate,          potatoes people dogs roofs . . .           Who’s going?  Who’s breathing?          You above me and farther up—          a branch, let’s shake on it,          we won’t tread on one another,                 oh my stony leg,       oh bark oh fish       speak say whatever . . .          you feel how our heart beats                      under scales under shells       oh, that anxiety                 let’s get rid of it —                 we die together