grape tomatoes are floating in the puddle garden
all the women are baring their muscles
crystal deamoned and chewing
every bright bite of high water
cutting through our skin of earth
a peach; slobbered sunset gut.
if the earth were smooth, our brains
would be spoons
could be licked clean of its stink
our memories sliding keys
all music echoes in whales
and we could lay the tin things out like maps
make better decisions and color in
the lawns
fish mouthed, we screamed in
the homes of our lives
our guts filled with red clay
grasses and shoes
tables and spotted animals
digested or cremated into every cell
floating inside their lakes
are ten thousand birds
and families holding down their lies
their flying directions.
the fathers give like water
rising slowly and then carrying everything inside it
bones become pulp
our ribs are rainbows over their shoulders
our feet inside their hands like coins
everything is held in fiction
he caught a ladybug in his beard
and then everything set forth automatically
each heart he grew mutated into a sun capsule
a glass bead which made it hard for his feet to stick
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