Upon the Word

I cannot write I have no hands.
Instead, I use my feet to gather stones
and pile them together into
the form of Miniature Mountains.

I have no poems they bore my mind.
Instead, I pick up all the sticks I can find
and join them together
into the form of five fingers.

I imagine pointing
at the world with my finger
while upon my mountain, bellowing
Do not linger too heavily upon the word.