I found one. The body's uncontested need to devour an explanation. This poem is really, I wanted to write a poem about the natural world. And anytime I try to write a poem about anything I sit down and try and write, nothing happens. So it's always a pleasant surprise when something comes and you're like, oh, this is that. And it was a curious, like, so I read about, I cannot remember the Japanese word, but forest bathing. There's a word for it. And my mind did this kind of mental exercise of going into the forest and then suddenly sniffing spores and sniffing moss. And then I was thinking, oh, what if this is like an actual kingdom? And there's someone down there, like some little people looking up at my nose sniffing. And so the whimsy of that was like, okay, follow that through. The body's uncontested need to devour an explanation. I am bathing again, burying my face into the great nations of moss. I am leaning in, smelling the emerald mountains and the little inhabitants crossing over rock-like boulders and tree trunks emptied bit by bit. My nose must come to them like a probing spaceship causing a mighty eclipse. They speak in whispers, but do not shriek when gazing into the dim landing bays of my cavernous thoughts. I am grazing like a Dionysian. I come not with religion. I come yearning for first spring and a thirst for spores pooling like mercenaries in the dark. The little gods of the forest live here. I want to ingest their verdant settlements until they carpet my cavities and convert my raptorial self into its own ecosystem off into the green. So when I wrote that first line, I am bathing again and I listen to it, I am bathing again, burying my face into the great nations of moss. When I repeat, I am again, it's almost like I'm cranking. I am leaning in, smelling the emerald mountains and the little inhabitants crossing over rock-like boulders. Since this is a long-wit repetition, sentences are a way for me to create music, but also to help follow through on syntactic meaning. I am also trying to be imagistic. I want a reader to as much here, as much see as they hear. What I am saying, imagery is really, really important to me. In this particular case, I truly believe that poems are not just merely about witnessing, bearing witness to events that happened in our lives and trying to extract meaning there. I believe we can be as imaginative as any speculative writer or as any fiction writer. I don't believe all poems need to be non-fiction is what I am trying to say. This particular poem contains a bit of truth. All of us, hopefully, want to connect with, at least in this day and age, want to connect with live things everywhere. Plants, trees, rabbits, foxes, ingesting natural spaces is a way for us to kind of widen our humanity. That poem was fun to kind of think through. I want to ingest their verdant settlements until they carpet my cavities and convert my raptorial self, thinking of dragons, into its own ecosystem, often to the green. I have fun writing that poem.