Silly Girls Your Heads Full Of Boys

The First Year Was Like Icing. Then The Cake Started To Show Through.

I Think That In The Process Of Writing, All Kinds Of Unexpected Things Happen That Shift The Poet Away From His Plan And That These Accidents Are Really What We Mean When We Talk About Poetry.

The Evening Light Was Like Honey In The Trees When You Left Me And Walked To The End Of The Street Where The Sunset Abruptly Ended. The Wedding-cake Drawbridge Lowered Itself To The Fragile Forget-me-not Flower. You Climbed Aboard. Burnt Horizons Suddenly Paved With Golden Stones, Dreams I Had, Including Suicide, Puff Out The Hot-air Balloon Now. It Is Bursting, It Is About To Burst

I'm Heading For A Clean-named Place Like Wisconsin, And Mad As A Jack-o'-lantern, Will Get There Without Help And Nosy Proclivities.

The Sun Fades Like The Spreading Of A Peacock's Tail, As Though Twilight Might Be Read As A Warning To Those Desperate For Easy Solutions.