foxglove

open your mouth purple.
sing like the pocket knife 
in the flea market wallow. 
i killed the most beautiful tooth
i could find & named its absence 
after our kitchen. you brought me
every poison but i loved
the foxglove the most. 
i could picture us asleep 
inside one of the telephones.
gardens blossom with spring televisions.
there's nothing good on tv anymore.
let's watch an execution. let's watch
a finger puppet. 
we ate unblessed communion wafers 
& tasted god's elbows.
i have a cellar i keep just
for your shoes. fill each with 
marble pilots. a king once ruled
over my knuckles. now i feed him
fig newtons & he lives beneath me.
i still think about catching rats 
all night & tossing them
in garbage bags. their corpses 
turned into overripe honeydew.
i have never been able to trust
what i see & what i hear.
instead, rely on taste. kiss doorknobs.
put on pineapple lipstick.
you wave goodbye. it is high noon
& not a time for endings.
so many stomachs to hold pits.
the plum tree grows 
without any encouragement 
& i am so jealous.