Let’s be mythological figures with ill-fitting
heads
Let’s take off our meaningful glances
one foot
At a time like stockings labeled as
artful hints and
Why don’t we dangle them out the
window
And drape those mildly frowning
socks over
The nearest branch—you know the one
I mean
The oak where you said there are no
impossibilities
The oak where I said how can anyone
fail to be
The momentary smile of down-dappled
sunlight
Remember how you named me Gerrymander
Happy-shins when I said that and I
called you
Irrepressible Joy That Fits and then
we looked
Up and saw the flying shutters of an
enormous
Yellow city the air becoming air
before our eyes
No comments:
Post a Comment