you beat the floor with your
feet to a special internal rhythm
i don’t know what for maybe
just to expel the extra energy
your body produces in case
you were in the savannah,
searching for berries at the
tooth-end of biology
the giant monsters that
forced you in doors

and the ripples from the waves
you throw around into the air
hit all but affect little
and i think you think that is what
you’re moving for but maybe it’s
not and you know no one is really
listening and that what really matters
is that the grass grows green outside

ed the janitor knows
he mowes it
once a week
and a million other
eds know
that the grass just
grows and grows
incessently
greenly outside

no matter what you do