Through the toxic atmosphere,
   beneath the neon light of a pistachio moon,
         I see my lover’s perfect, unkempt

The sand scorches
the tendons
of my perforated neck

Coma of cold storage
Against the sweetening
Orchard—white petals

I love candy, anything really chewy and so full of sugar it stings like a Sugar Daddy. No matter how much I twist and pull, the long caramel tongue lasts me the full Sunday matinee at Radio City Music Hall, but just in case, I’ve also stored in my pea coat pocket a quarter pound of Swedish Fish. When the magician is pulling a rabbit out of his hat, I

The moment's denting inward like a can,
The poet wrote in a fever of expectancy
But the line went nowhere, it had nowhere to go.

Dying of thirst,
I long to share the fate of the wild irises
Each raindrop must seem to whom the size of a boulder

In the high school band, knees furiously
Pumping while atop her hat
She wore a great white plume. 

Was there room in museums
Especially set aside for other
Museums when they visited? 

Flailing boughs, coral lime in the wind and verdure.

everywhere, fern fronds, skunks, day lilies, badgers going along silently, and the unruled land goes along too