I have convinced myself
all birds fly as soon as they see sky
I know each wing on each one
is different
Grounded I tend to speak aluminum
from the grand piano of my throat
It is a sunny thirty
The sun beams over a painting
of a palm supporting an oak
Believe me I want my tongue
to bloom good petals
I cannot get enough of being
alone
Imagine a single light
at the far end of a cave
so faint you must remember
you’re awake
Blow the dust
from the ivories
Play flat notes detuned
through my lips
I want the truth
yet spit loose gravel
into the chasm
of my lover’s ear
(Originally published in Poetry Super Highway, Summer 2017)