grayday grayday

cheap symbol i'm here
talking nobility
while you wait with
a half-handled boning
knife, serape, cigars yes
it's taken me, is not well
belted cloaked hidden you
shouldn't look up the halo
of the moon. in other
worlds the saw
is the law, she will
wear a veil, she may
never see you. a hot
blooded holy, lent back
in strong wind mother
fucker i've seen you
i know you
three times alien
babies in the
plastic pitted
capsule.
artificial
life. ill-fitting
zipper. pathos
particularly mcglincy
you gherkin
i am. i am under
black kerchief mainsail,
the jar,
the man who played with
muddy waters plays how muddy
comes apart. this poem
has no idea
what it is.
this poem is still trying
to wake up.

it's a flower.