ccxlii

never once-over a page like some
glimmering on the other side read
ing it like a bomb.  which is to say
boom you say that?  yes next page a
goldmine full of vipers’ vests and
a spooked out clambake.  this bake’s
disorganized, disengorged, and what’s
more, I wait it out to be hungry to be.
poetry—tab—schoolwork and look,
a few more leaves blown while the
world collapses like clockwork,
only this time with feeling.  how
many times did you say that feeling
breath-rent—half gone to keynotes;
half to phone messages?  block time
for quoting, reread this a third time
and feel sad, feel ugly.  nothing
doing.  dance like a goldfish
out of goldwater.  finish big
like a goldbomb at a goldbake.