"Form."
"Dear April, I appreciated the way
the paragraphs were all about the same length.
I especially liked how your sentences appeared
to relate to one another.
It was getting late, they said.
Solemn, blunt flash of sun off the window of a Coors Light
truck.
On a fence across the street wings of a wooden chicken
spun backward.
Everyone had reason to be proud.
I could handle symbols without being manipulated
by them like a stone butch, you might say,
but that's only connotation.
Meanwhile, in the photographs my expression was
fading as if my darling, ambiguity
were just another word for death.
What is the nature of the resting state
but gaseous longing.
Regret in the original final form without objects."