Amiability
is your quiet cough
Warm
when secondhand light finds you
Dreaming
chirpy as a cell phone
You
see little roses
Parting
garish lips
Inscrutably
small monkeys
Fleeing
sunset
And
holy cow
You
see a desiccated crowd
Of
grumpy old Samuel Becketts
Crowing
“Auld Lang Syne”
Three
vermilion crows are watching you
Paddle
turbulent green currents
Your
tiny boat just a vague assertion
Small
and quaintly personal
Goo-goo
gah-gah
Must
mean something
A
feeling no longer
Sufficiently
decipherable
Nor
entirely absent
O
forbidden inclination!
Any
minute now the plural
Eyes
of hysterical river gods will open
The
door of your hands
Roughened
by what kisses
This
historical wind grinning now
Nervously
at the window
Wants
you even more than I
To
be dreaming careless green taffeta
A
long silk-sleepy dress you could wear
Waiting
at the gate with Mallarmé
Smiling
shyly by the shore
Well maybe just a little bit
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