Ah tree when the skin's torn off you is it carved or cultivated is it herbs or love
Is it true the word
Is it true the word temptation
Is it like a branch is it all about it's-just-about-to-be-another is that arboreal

O tree in the apple of your many functions one packet of seeds
In the carved-in nailed-to hung-from set afire sung-beneath canopy and the
       preached-on stump the tang of one apple

Underneath you tree it's like chewing on that mushroom
Like a decade in retrospect the chorus behind the word
Behind the word address
Behind address I'm counting
I mean is speech address or counting a poll a prophecy are the verbs just
       window-dressing for the noun the name the raised hand in the classroom

Tree ree ee
I'm no one in particular but you make it interesting to try

Fragrant silent tree you make me want to prophesy
You make me want never to stop
I remember David said take your notebook with those mushrooms so I got down
       in a hollow and just kept writing til he bounded back up to me surf in his hair
       and then stumped exasperated at the foot of the dune said are you getting it
       all down
He was right I try so hard
But I look at that notebook now mostly without cringing

Tree you rhyme with strophe
You rhyme with I don't think I have it in me but of course who does
You rhyme with an entire other register whose fragrance is the embarrassing
       obviousness of God

It's everywhere tree
It's on a separate small table
It's in the version of you in the torsion in the instance of you growing
It's in your lone and Sanskrit-sounding syllable