Getting Into It

I was supposed to give up on it
because i said it was over, and I still beleive it.
Something is wrong. A thing insists.
Another way to say it.

It insists and yet
won't return my calls.
Hello, hello?
And nothing.
It is demanding, and yet
it isn't specific.

Fill this bucket with sustinence, I dare you.

It instructs.
Go and take it with you.
Bring it back full.
Upon your return
Pour it along the invisible perimeter
of without-further-ado
to mark your way in.

Describe it: give it homage.
The thing is,
animal, vegetable, mineral, not
any of these things. Difficult.

The thing is,
not able to fit in a bucket.
It kicks the bucket.

It it it, and it it it good.

It keeps talking or I do.
You can dance to it.
It has a good beat, but
it isn't fair.

It hurts.
What?
However.

How I love it -- how is it
it is almost as if I could
taste it?

What was it like?

Cold water, lemon slices.
Soft-edged ice cubes bump
tinly against a bucket wall.

Do you hear it?
What a great sound.
So real.

Hold it over your head.
Pour it in your open mouth.
Be you drowned.
Drop the bucket.
Fuck it.