Wait, followed by, I hear the sound of water— in a dream, the flood took us two by two and there was hollowness somehow similar to the shade of an oak. The flood is here, Jeremiah—the flood is here for your endless days. It is true that virality is like carbon in that it rests inside all the earth and can only be washed away by a rush of heat. In the mornings, I wake from myths to mistake the body’s cough for music. A host of sparrows sits on the roof of a nearby, broken down church against t...