I’m a man holding a dandelion—trying to reason
What your average family in Mali does on Sunday: do you believe
This an interruption or inclusion?
Am I correct thinking I’m human in Sanskrit?
We is most when mixed company.
In Colorado. In Mexico.
In Mexico eating Mole Colorado.
In the windy light motes make
Dust mixes with water wipes
The air clean. The road’s
A mess we barely
Pass by on:
Looking at clouds rush-off
Revealing a rainbow.
Please help me to make sense
Or when is sensual
A thesis versus screwing up?
Birds on poplar boughs cheer me. The sky endears me
To blue along with oceans and a period of Picasso; in a different period he
Drew less and less of a bull until there’s no doubt.
Grit from gentrification dusts wing-feathers.
Because desire’s like that there
There’s a big fight in the interstice.
I need the “untranslatable
Ice to watch”:
Primarily problematic distance or space
To see through to? I’m fond of Ferdinand the bull—frown at the king
Watching cruelty in rings—fingering his wife’s bands—full of hope
For a new world.