we left the disco ball out in the rain

glimmer spored & planted sway 
all over the dew-spat yard. 
the house we stood in front of
was not ours & it glitched 
when one of us wasn't looking.
pruney fingers tried to untangle 
knots of hair. tree pasting leaves
across skin. map gutter crumpled 
& trading roads for red vines.
our festive clothes were ruined
by our own calliope. damp 
as a drained dream. teeth chattering
with a cold rush in from the west.
plucked ripe sweaters from a bush.
itchy & knitted by elderly angels.
how could you go to sleep like this?
all the unfinished ruffle & 
the mouths we still needed 
to enter? gone we make a statue
of you to remember what we forgot.
your arms crossed we make you 
out to be a good father instead
of a passing spine. priests 
will survey this mess & deam us
unworthy of feed bags. the disco ball
swelled. you should have seen it.
you should have wrapped the towel
clockwise around the wound. 
blood is a kind of egg timer.
the bread is done. the bread's been done.
all i need is the right insulated glove.
we should seek shelter
in the nearest dead car. a skeleton
is always a little human. 
shining flecks of leftover. 
i fill my pockets & i get greedier
by the moment. i'm sorry i would
keep it all for myself if i could.
would pour others recollections out
& jar them for new camera angles.
i wasted my tokens on a train
to the drug store. they were
out of marshmallows. can i borrow
a rain coat? the sweater
is reminding me of sheep standing
like enemy-less soldiers
field-standing & ready.
we depart but i still want
to reassemble the thing. find every
fleck & freckle & re populate
the ground with future suns.
it's no use. we wasted the last circle.
now it's just rough around edges 
all the way to the end. 
keep a piece for yourself.