I've fallen in love no less
than seven-hundred sixty-three times:
with men, women, fire hydrants,
Various species of tree, bird, and cat.
Why, oh why, oh God
(candlelit God, oh God)
Do these visions of intercourse
press down, and down again upon me.
Might of winter's hand should
make me shiver unto methyl-dark clouds,
hiding rust upon the surfaces of me,
(heaping coal upon my furnaces of glee?).
I weep and sing
petals, ribbons, brightly colored avians
burst forth from my mouth and hands
swoon-swept, I never sleep.
To dance, so incredibly unbridled by time,
Engulf my body in green flame and fly
with great wings, four-bladed: (This I dream)
And some golden cloud wanders bye and whispers
How I am so alive and breathing.
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