Shooting pleasures
Ok'd by
My being seen
For
Or as
If.
*
Not just light
at the end of the tunnel,
but hearts, bows, rainbows—
all the stickers
teachers award if pleased.
*
Pigeons bathe in technicolor
fluid "of a morning."
*
If I was banging
my head with a shoe,
I was just exaggerating—
like raising my voice
or the ante.
Curlicues
on iron gratings:
Can it be
a flourish is a grimace,
but a grimace isn't a flourish?
*
On the inscribed surface
of sleep.
Almost constant
bird soundings.
"Aloha, Fruity Pebbles!"
Music, useful
for abstracting emphasis.
Sweet nothing
to do with me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem