The river's full of rainbowed fish.
Its upper skin is starry-sparkled,
But all the same, beware. my brother, beware,
For there's something darkly stirring
Like thickened echoes through fat-flesh hills,
In epic-sky fields, through drive-through towns,
Where the white paint is stained and wrinkled and cracked,
Where there are people who have been shouted at all their lives
And who have believed everything that was shouted at them
Because
it was shouted
And they
have
guns
Which is the most profound thing that can be said about them,
For there's something darkly stirring, But
still,
there are twilights and nights and weirdo-hero dawns,
As that heavy-gushing river flows slowly
to the sea.