There-funnel of darkness, there-tube Poem by Gian Mario Villalta

There-funnel of darkness, there-tube
pouring darkness on the fields,
darkness that all the trees will drink.
There-bottom where the green bleeds
and hardens, there-wall of corn stalks erect
and at the evening erect against God knows what rain

or fixed idea of showers of rain
shining over the sheet-steel
stained with the darkness
battered on tins,
under the slanted moon roofs.
Rotten idea of dark showers of glass
that glide on a crampful of thoughts,
clouds of embossed glass

filled a drawer
with new
so silent nails
and gimlets.