rebel held

the mountains are old
and the notions of so
are even degrees away
sit still hear the people speak
of racoons and what they eat

down here, around here, up here
               the racoon is immortal
                        unless on a fence

the induced flow off
loft trickles out sloughs
soft spots form the grit
for the tribology of intransigence

yes                    and no
appellation in name only