out back

Infirm dilemma
while the neighbors have their overheard phone conversations
about skullduggery
as the heat begins to press like a sharp finger
at the back of our breath
and the camera man have pictured their spyland
like the black insectile rape of staring at a victim
I wonder
did they used to know old paintings of violets
from a cherub's thriftstore
as the pink tables diffused rainwater
out back in the native damp grassland bordering
a burgeoning forest splattered with damp wood
and igneous green moss,
did they know love too
or was it lost in patterns of a quick needlepoint
wrought by frayed threading
the colors pink and pea green?

Somedays with the forest pressing against the cabins
I know enough to be nauseous
and I can't forget
until certain things are themselves forgotten
by the veldt of firma and Time
so let me ask you, curious bird
if the seed of Beauty had been in your dark beak
when the refrains of golden dawns
sang
and you responded in chirps
back to that new ancient song,
did you imagine the spyglass
the errant invitation to another's hatred
on an obsedian telephone,
or the complete aural stab
of witchcraft's gossip
carried through a wind of frost
as we leaned towards the pale encompassing heats
of a whiter star and astral designation
than our sun's golden keep?

I would like to interview you
but we will keep it at a lack of hello for now
since you were running all over the property
and I think I can forgive you
for dressing like a GMO robot
if you keep your kids away from knives
that belong in a hunter's boot
for now
and let them watch the rainbow splatteres
of LSD TV
until their minds are made up about color
like how your hair winds matronly when tied by a ribbon
representing motherhood
and not these other monsters
who played with sharp instruments
upon the anatomies of our fates.

Did you cry
when you saw the abandoned wagon
in the road
wondering where the children
were disappearing to?
Because a lot of them
ended up in cruel and defaced factories
as riveted as nightmares
so you should be kinder
because we were blessed today
by the taste of rainwater from the sink
and the ruminations that fell upon
a hidden cisteren
that could be the spiritual vault
of the human race.