Heart the size of a poppy seed

Bees’ business
pushes flowers around
like a harpist’s fingers

gush wire.
This overdose of swallows
might be spring

or a sailor’s boast.
Scrappy clouds attempt words.
An I puffs up, an L, a D,

Ich Liebe Dich.
Love sounds such melody
in distaff notes.

Here, here it’s better
to shove the bed to the wall.
The tinnitus throb

dulls with only one side.



kj19jan10