what i would give
to see you
down by the mississippi
river like john berryman

everyone knows
i gt this story
2nd hand but in
our internet age and
still i have
no pictures of you

that night i sucked
brown honey
from the earth
kissed the man
with the roving billboard
moved to
a vagrant saxophone

my words maybe
make you dance
maybe just measure
your quaking like
a seismograph

how difficult for me
when you only
must stand and drip
as i solder on wings
tarred and feathered

to hear you shriek
to smell the cauterizing
of your alabaster skin
to see you
fly away

we who give permission
we who bring out the soul
in those who have it
and the fear
in those who don't