topiary 

precision leaf-- 
these
our angles-- our 
round
round domes-- 
mountainous &
jutting into a shifting
blue sky-- 
where oh where
is a cloud when 
you need it?
let's
leave this world
& become topiary 
gardeners-- skilled
in the art of bending
bodies-- will
you bend with me? 
will
you take the shears 
across my forehead
until i am a more
explicit
version of myself--
the pyramids of giza 
grew here with us in green--
evergreen-- 
bury me here
where the art is
alive & you & me
have tamed the clouds--
what would it take
for the trees to reach 
themselves
round as we cut them?
as we love them into
shapes--
will the song birds
take as i form them?
their thick wings
of foliage-- tell
them to stay here with
us in the garden
where everyone 
is unambiguous & the
clouds themselves 
take orders from our
fingers-- beneath the 
cube shaped trees
we can hold hands & 
kiss exact & perfect 
& we too will bud--
thrive-- our bodies
taller & taller--
burst wild with me--
the finals act of
of the topiary gardener
is to become one
of his own children--
we: the branch bone
grown fauntless--
oh we were perfect
there & when 
the people push open
the gates & 
meander in between
these bushes they
will come & pause
before
us-- our triangular
skulls our
contours-- our margins
raising higher & higher--
they will put their
children on their shoulders
& tell them something
vague
about pruning &
the children will 
feel deep within themselves 
the yearning for
edges-- for flawless
shoulders-- 
aching to have
bark-- to be severed
in all the right ways--
they will reach out
maybe & grab
a branch-- my hand
& a breeze will
send a hush through 
all the trees--
when they leave
us we can take back
our pink bodies--
finger nails & elbows--
link arms & kiss
yes kiss again--
yes so much of topiary
is about kissing
touch skin 
in the privacy of 
our garden 
until our fringes
need trimming-- 
this is waiting
for life to become
uneven again--
this is believing
in the topiary--
the breath of
art before fainting--
wake up with cuts
on our fingers from
working so so hard
to keep our verges--
oh let me know
when you notice
me fading--
take me in your
arms father & 
make me rounds again 
or at least a plateau--
flat & arid
in the majave desert
oh what am i 
doing so green?