These fat clouds hang low
O watch out!
They fall on you
They fall onto the deck of your
boat
Where I left my last chance
You spitting molten candlewax on my
stomach
You singing French ditties outlined
by throwing knives
You flossing your white teeth with a
long hair
You plucked from a pony’s tail
How fortunate the 21st century quietly
winnows
The surface of your mind
Only your keen ear
Especially this day so serenely marshmallowy
Only your ear hears the sad shore
Slip whimpering under water
Should I now that a sound travels
farther than time
Offer an open hand to prove I do not
tremble?
Should I say I understand the
boredom of leaves
Shifting briefly with the sibilance of
a voice?
The water’s just as disturbed as it
ever was
Your up-from-under look
Your naked foot rippling the water of
silence
The odor of divinity
Becomes you
