if i were an absurd sculpture in 
the park

if i were an absurd statue
in the park i would be rusted
& half-smiling like
the moon & on 
an august night when everyone
feels like they're evaporating--
people might mistake me
for a malformed tree limb
or a fragment of an
escaped dream--
a shard of bone stolen
from their rib cage to 
build a new person out
of metal--
i become the weather-- 
great lips pressed up
against the brass mouth piece
of the morning when the 
dew collects all over my body--
sometimes children would 
wipe the water off on their sleeves--
write their names into
the layer of mist--
watch their fingers become--
become gaping-mouthed
tulips-- become stolen 
rib-bones growing into statues
out of a patch of mulch--
the night time would be my favorite
& i would watch you meander 
down between the lamp posts 
& you wouldn't remember
the night we climbed to the top
of the red plastic 
slide because i would
be just a statue-- 
but i would would remember
how you held me like a wooden
spoon & we dipped heavy 
into a soupy august night
to stir up the clouds--
took sips of each others
teeth-- slid down the slide--
using our bodies as promises 
written on folded pieces of paper--
another couple kisses
wild on a bench & the street
lamps avert their eyes
& the two of them kiss
in absolute & utter darkness
there in the park where
the cicadas are making their
way back down to the core
of the earth to re-learn
the love-song of the sun--
their plucking each leaf from the
the trees as they go &
i watch august bleed
open red-- 
scabs off in september
where i rested my legs across
your lap & you cut strands of 
my hair off one by one
to sew a husk of corn--
i'd give up my life as statue
if you wanted to be a fox with
me or a feral cat who
lives under the older roller 
skating rink--
we could escape the park
& ramble in the corn field--
eat kernels from the cob
all through autumn-- let
the combines till us into the
soil & grown stalks from
our bones the next year--
yes i know i would dream 
a lot for a sculpture in
the park-- absurd & 
twisted like our first kiss
from the top of the red slide--
but i would love to
wait their
& watch everything happen
more slowly--
let the water peel off
layer after layer of rust
as if i were an eternal 
clementine the world
was trying to open--