I want to be outlasted
By fog horns. Want a headstone
For a placemat. Break glow- proof bread.
I take
Measuring tape
To observe the distance between
My opal & skin. Inside, I am
Tin solider & less-wooden tree.
I am a balled up black stocking.
A ceiling fan. No one should
Try to take this long. Will you be
A fisherman with me? Talk to crickets
With our eyes shut as blush compacts.
Haul up a net of chick-a-dees.
Let’s make children from clay.
Glaze them jade & Jupiter.
Cut the planets strings to watch them
Float to the fiber glass galaxy.
Construction is on-going. Will soon
Be wordless. I wake up to a day lily
Sprouting from my pillow where you
Had laid your head. What use
Is my Tuesday with the rind peeled &
Fruit honeyed. Buffet for the
Never-to-be-dead. Counting ribs,
We’re both missing one.
Licking red from fingers. More & more.
Waking up to a pair of dice.
Allergic to noon. Shining a flashlight
In your face.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.