The Superintendent Brings Me a Toasted Butterfly
the superintendent brings me a toasted butterfly
with buttery speckled wings
we fill in spaces between the lines and cross them out
forest manager gives us cold o’doul’s
reserves places at the grilled rainbow
thanks
for a new identity in garamond
the horse a hypothesis a parenthesis a diacritical
breathing
notes on my painter’s whites survived bleach
to read:
dark-eyed olivia queen of navarre
squarely faces the wild chicken trainer
the sky is falling
a celtic minstrel has tickets to moscow,
finds ginsberg overrated,
wrote thirty-five love poems last month
his chair disappears
before the red-nosed clown has juggled balls
of fire or damped
his perspiring brow