I tell
Rain like bugs outside, landing on the past’s inhale
and Love might hear a thing. Sucking
on the jarred sky like a big cigarette, gray then white then
the shape of an Orange.
Here here here,
Be so good as to join me in our moment?
till spirit all the time, put your
love Down,
slather this baggie, or up to candle stouts
special occasions (unknown), release your cure!
Here, have a scoop where the Uncookable grain sits like a Feeling
in the navel of my valleyed Chest, the dip
between the Halves of me where the ships roll in.