when i hear your name
I ponder what kind of wonder
leaves behind 6 letters
and say so much

i want to blast down walls with your name,
paint houses with its color;
there wouldnt be a mountain around
i didnt carve it into;
a well on the east coast,
i didnt scream it down and listen
to the echo
of the echo

i would look under every stone,
behind the trees and bushes
to make certain it was there;
i would teach the birds to sing it,
i would show fish its better than water,
to explain to the world that there�s nothing
better than the madness of your repeated letters

i would forget the remaining 20 letters,
oh, and all the numbers, and the signs,
the books on the shelf, the poems in my journal,
to say hello with your name,
to part with your name,
to go here and there
with nothing but your name
to cloth myself