saturn peach dream

we talk about the horrible horrible
but we get too seasick & end up 
just snapping bad pictures of the moon.
when i tell you that i am no longer
interested in a flying machine i mean
that i am sick of jupiter & all the gas 
it spins without telling us what's going on.
i want a letter or at least a 60 minutes interview.
if i had to survive on peach rings alone
if think i could live longer
than you might assume. i have always hoped
my body would be used for bad science.
test a rocket ship on me. clone my cells
& teach me in my new not-so life how
to sew the hems on pants. i used to 
collect chewing gum as a child. i hoarded it
beneath my pillow & reached there
in the threadless night. sometimes my telescope
makes everything smaller. i am left 
with a device full of ants. you can 
decide to not speak the fire poet aloud
but he will always be there. the smoke 
spills into the night sky like milk
into a mouth. i don't miss most people
who i have witnessed transform into ducks.
fly south for the winter. only, the winter
never ends & we become cartographers.
there is the border. watch its wings beat.
i am interested in carving myself a ring
from the dirt they keep trying to take,
up the street, they are building more dead people's houses
where there used to be meadows.
all the deer bite their tails & spin. 
i try to follow them but i do not have
a tail. i just have two arms & a phantom
who sometimes will buy groceries for me.
all fruit is best when it's sickly ripe.
i had a dream in which you did not eat
all the pawpaws. there was one left
& i devoured standing in the kitchen.
nectar up to my elbows. the bees 
in the walls folding me in. i call you frantic.
i ask, "can you hear me?" the voice
on the other side of the line 
your mouth is full of seeds. you manage
to ask, "who is this?"