You know, I think I've got a lot of math lately in these poems.
Not entirely certain about it--
or science.
"A Brown Age"
Oh, this has summer again in it.
It's just to keep you sort of in chronological continuity.
"A Brown Age"
"Summer took every one of my dresses
while I was having them perfumed.
Summer wore them every day, so I was naked and living
in a cave where frugivores snuffled in the melon flesh.
I wrote you a letter in dirty ink asking you here.
Why not?
Trees move at least as much as we do,
if only their heads and arms.
I didn't write that.
I scratched it on a rock and skipped the rock.
Brownie, the pink oranges are hanging just behind your head.
It's the life you can't see.
If I turned your head, you'd still only see the turning.
Not fruit, not me.
But legs moved, proof you came at all.
At last, we were sleeping, and fucking, and it was fall."
Oh, I forgot to warn you there's some profanity.
"Now in the dark brown dark, it's cold and white.
Your eyes are largely plural, like fish sleep-floating
in their zones.
No souls, but thirsty.
On the mouth of the cave, there is an icicle
that had no way here in summer.
Now it melts down and refreezes into the shape of a wishbone,
or two wet legs to escape on.
I will break them both and put them all in a cup.
I'll wish for water.
That is, waste a wish on what will already come.
Please don't leave.
Please drink it.
I'm waiting for noon to become midnight
and for you to drink it."