All kinds of little errors
in the construction of his body
only a carpenter would see or care
in the blue privacy of his own calloused
fingers moving over the blond birch
clumps picturesquely
fourteen Wisconsin winters set
of course we’ve got it wrong
completely reversed wilderness
and dreams when we go
to the dollar store for another
shovelful of evocative laughter
all we get are sudden shifts of
tone a long glance as a phrase
flies by all the consequential
thoughts copulating under the snow
so by summer what we reap
‘s already bungled choreography
eroded voices’ radiant dust of lust in
some sudden field or was that you?
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment