It’s like a god
is gloating down
on this geranium
but no one warned me
when I first came here
about the orange
blossom scent
in the night air
sirens and satyrs
sniffing around beauty
the bees come sticky
and go home drunk
while the mockingbirds
are eating my tomatoes
I’m lashed to my chair
until we sail past
this too-sweet world.
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