Oh god of walking out
into a field that will burn
in a year, wrap a square
around these peach trees
and call it a holy of holies.
In this empty air I can see
cinderblocks surrounding
an air conditioning unit, and
I need you to breathe this clay
behemoth back to the car lot.
Oh god of life going on unannounced
on the other side of this wall,
there would be so much space here
were it not for all these people.
Come out with me and we’ll lay down
sand bags and tour the entire length
with trumpets. Something will fall,
and I’ll name it after you.