I Saw You
I saw you on the roundabout a burden’s squirm
an apple perched on the peak of a hip bone
in the garbage heap. You did not catch my eye
but I caught your cold
cut out of the eye of your snake’s
skin. Jacket crumbled on a chair. If scarves are
what make you swoon look at my open palms.
I said I would
smash the ukulele compressed in the folds of a moleskin.
I saw you
cross out the last corpse in a group of four sticks in the fog.
Your greasy breath on the mirror. What?
Don’t look at my hands they are too small
even for the ashtray. I came here for you. God
you looked like a mountain range conquered by fear.
I caught your eyes in a fish bowl a stereo stuffed in a garbage bin
a bee caught under your tongue. Humming
a dead horse in the bends of your elbows.
Let’s obsess a little.
Trapped you in a stage light my memory is the crowbar.
Saw you on a flowerbed keeping signature
with lightning bolts. I had a dream
we would meet sometime soon but never like this.
Buried you in my chest as if closeness makes the storm’s
night wilting branches in a storm. What?
You caught my eyes and I caught you a vixen ensnared
in a stage curtain. Help me keep that
collage of you scraping your knees on the bottom
of the woodshed. The scarf is long now.
I’ll see you tomorrow just give me one chance to burn
in winter’s discarded scraps.