C-major sky what's your favorite shape of stammer? O have I encountered you
quantum glitter like my relationship to the river
I took
the word for fireworks
Found my month
in the knuckle rhyme
Let's visit the park we don't know
Arboretum of tenterhooks we pour water in the dead what are these crops of?
We keep snowballs in the freezer for the summer to surprise it
It turns
out language
is the other people
Is another person's
language
Lunch alone at home & I say to my face in the plate's glaze This is the only life I
have I round up: Let's conspire
Are you sad?
Do you have wet hair?
The image is a mortal thing.
To dwell, to leave traces.
My lung a canoe caught in the branches of a river expands like the night I
learned to swim underwater my lung contracts with fog how I turn the light
off at daybreak
Ovarian cancer
Uterine cancer
Cervical cancer
Multiple sclerosis
Leukemia springing from the left leg
If my harvest isn't disease guilt is a failure to hush when our little pieces go
pang geranium & grapefruit
But if I'm caring for myself then who am I not? We clamor to reverberate
To bounce off of you claim
the tin-sound.
Two pages stuck together.
Packing disguised as unpacking.
What if I need more time?
A wooden coin, your clogged nostril.
Clods of grass we hold up like scalps.
Has anyone noticed my arms are sparklers the flaming kite cutting the grass
I put my head inside the vase to hear the stems If I've discarded my parts what makes
this cave shape?
A sugar cube for each ant.
Our plates pile up, chucked
out the window.
Are your sounds inside
the paper asylum?
Glitter on the knuckle.
Radishes & powdered mustard I place before you red like by bleeding
I mean I blur I come together & we're in unison we're a parsnip party we
played out the language: a yellow tint your hair loosens
I caught you busting
a scab to wrench a scar.
I cusped? We broke
the clasp of the orange
dress acquired through language.
You didn't give me up or
you didn't give.
I think about motion about what I want to sustain the sound of a fishtank
& now a bubble burst & now a world There's nothing to scrape off of the leaf-stained
sidewalk
They jingled.
They live on a bicycle farm.
They clamor & we let
them take that.
As all yellow is gold.
