after Amy Gerstler, after the Anonymity of cloud storage,after Edwin Arlington Robinson who knew something about dark hills and the fading legions
you are reading this with hedgehog quills growing from your oratory tonguethe lynx urine of your attention crystallizing into something you'll bury
three days dead like a lion cub waiting for father's breath to resurrectthe particulate matter of sentences & baby's breath
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i want to test the aspen trees dancing zydeco in your cowgirl eyes but you've been turnedinto a birch Professor Emeritus of Antimatter denied tenure in your own body
the bears are licking their pulpy cubs into shape while you scrape sand over the Bloody Sunday of your best disjointed thoughts
( constitutional meannessinvasive growth of catcalls )
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dark hills at evening sunset hovering like a book held against cemetery grassold bones of enamel animals :::March hares in June,hedgehogs / in April's mouth::: far now from all the bannered ways & it is October
you have forgotten your name where you lived who you loved hydrogeni am simply pointing to fog:chair/ book/ lover/ infrared saudade
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can you hold panther breath to my words sweet enough to entice everything except your love
you forget the breathy woman on the cornerof Bromfield & Tremont the lobbied jokes of your dissolving while flashing regions of the sun or wisps of your grassfed raven hair
pigeons fly to the circle singe their vision clear you fade as if three hundred years of elephant memory were all done wars
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i want you tumbling tipsyacross my daisychain dashes of quaint misinformationthe wild wild west in your forgetfulnesshaunted by [silhouette of a hedgehog]that look in your unblinking matcha eyes that song in your hipshaunted there haunted in haunted by —
you look a little bit like a devilish godmoo if you deserve it