We’re none of us very
good at saying no
Just beneath the sandry mocean
the mitochondria play their sweet fiddles
for the seabass
who cannot keep a secret
in their filthy little hearts
There is no trust out there
just barren narratives passing from ship
to ship on the sodium tongues of pirates
scurvy dogs who couldn’t make it in real estate
or car bombings
I am a missive for the great unimportant things so
meet me on the swings before midnight
Close your eyes, lay your sweet
shoulders into my palms and
wait as I take careful aim and
launch you into the fishnets of Scorpius
I will
miss you but
will enjoy
seeing your
smile there
just above
Sagittarius
comet white
half
surprised
and
blinding.
Forthcoming in Many
Mountains Moving
(Boulder, Colorado)
From the collection Great Showtunes of the American Stage Photo by MJV
No comments:
Post a Comment