I have an unslakeable thirst
For etymological puns,
As if the histories of words
Could disclose the architecture
Of the lost minds that nourished them
The way dark grass outlines ruins
In the bright fields of poor farmers
Whose crops root down to buried towns.
Consider how one word for breath
Could mean life, eternal essence,
Imaginary deities,
Hobgoblins, ghosts, and strong liquor--
Water of fire, water of life,
Spirited, spiritus, spirits--
The cold thought that scorches the tongue,
The danger that glows in the skull.