The ground is water
and spits straight at my heel
at my back
and on the arrows of my elbows
It wishes for everything I have
to be sunken and of Atlantis
What I wanted once
can no longer be obtained
so I turn back
but am forgotten
The ground is water
and made of sweat
Sometimes I forget
all of the work that
got us here
our civilization
our Emerald City
like a crystal it shines
when there is light
like a crystal inside
we’re all it absorbs

barbershop epiphany:
looking at trophies
he sees life rewarding him

Higgledy, Piggledy
Sundries and sundrops
The women of Windsor
Tipped off Lady Welby
Her hat was a mobile
So metaphorically
She should be throwing
Her head like a frisbee

hearing old things
old songs
from other people’s voices
and other rooms
in the building
behind stained glass
and the confessional
the garden where the conductor
had his heart attack
in the English lavender bushes
old language
was spoken then
and the lights dimmed
the curtain pulled
and chairs shifted
in the whispering hall
subtle creaks
warm tones
red violas
quick now
the quince’s pinches
also flower

for Christina

so it goes
with butterflies and crows
spring is the time
where they
lend you their wings
so that you can fly
to your nest of yarn
a home
safe from the cats
who prowl in the shape of
tax collectors
and union busters
who play shadow warrior
with uranium and plutonium
and purchase
advertisements on the box
we all watch
so that you
forget
get distracted
fill up with apathy
and buy the next
awful thing
for your nest
so small
and precious
got to
make sure
it stays that way and not get cluttered
with other people’s junk
or other cat’s bones
you’d rather leave alone
so you can fly
make your load light
’cause you can’t change the world
but you sure can
change the way you live