i. the scarlet babble of a mind that justifies
I painted a frieze of sea girls frivolously slick
with a bottle brush of Revlon Pink Chiffon,
I performed a soft manicure using musty chapters of twelve
that sanded erotic half moons from the curt edge of sea-side taffy:
there were so many hungers, so little time.
why hasn't someone invented a cherry cheese-burger?
ii. the periwinkle distraction of involuntary memory
so, she walked with a pink indifference
along the cresting bank of innocent azalea:
a rising tide of inland salty foaming
that burst the day with a rosy madeleine.
is it really that easy to confuse
the loamy land and the salty sea?
that I thought so then is humbling now,
humbling in a way whose drift is only important
for an overboard body that has drifted
into the saline soup of crumbled creation:
this is one entrance into the apprehension of trite.
I only wanted a biscuit.
iii. around the browned curbed corner, there came a chime
the chromium bell of an instant savior
brought an unexpected parcel of cloudy frost
and delivered us from the evil of toasted almonds.
when you dogmatically live that life is sorrow,
life will happily obey with sweet, sweet sorrow:
the most profound verses screamed from a public address.
iv. friends long unseen with shocking lines
a small snipe of purple genius
can tremor the cranium, electrically,
with mattress memories of a former night-
I am not unfamiliar with
a set of synapses that fire at will.
if you can say one true thing,
I will surely say another,
and so it goes.
though I call it love,
there may be another word
that is equally equal.
wading into surf was not enough,
wading into the surf had to be enough.
yes, we loved at first sight-
and still it's still not over.