who can say how confusion moves
as an internal swarm
or fragments of total home, but
walking past without much mind
a typical billboard this morning
above me there was this
demure and gargantuan model’s head and bedroom
eyes shrinking
to thoughtful size
obligatory parted lips
amassed curly hades
locks (black) frothed in fertile contrast
with an ambiguous flower
(yellow) of paradise, tucked
like a pledge
behind the ear, purling
in star formation open
long thin petals from which
a heathen stamen tickled
my eros, not unlike
antannae and not quite
in subtle fantasy displacement of legs spread
rhyming with invisible torso
to which what? the sole response
could only be
this is Dana, gangly charming
of several parties not at all
smoky or fatal, vertical and inverted
into a flat thing
to be touched, elsewhere
how stupid, for a haircut at Aveda salon
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1 comment:
An inside-the-park home run, legged out at the last second, complete with head-first slide. I made the exact same closing move in a poem recently. The shyku has grown like a kudzu between us.
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