Wheat Field With Crows
“his last painting”
In the Bathroom
The entire time you were
branching praying to sky in stark monotone
teaching me how to apply
both fastened onto barns/homes
lipstick, fingers spread
sunfish eraser flying into low woods
stubble, matte red
to kiss my palm and pimpled brow
Set perfectly on my face,
allows for a divinatory hum
I wanted nothing
crossroads of a limted shadow
more than for you to mess
herculean chickens roosting by barley
it up with your tongue
beside the temple profundity lurks
you said I had a feminine
billowing downward to reveal
cupid’s bow
the edge of a cliff.
Feline Musicology
When i put on Elgar’s Ave Maria OP 2
Tommy pounced up next to my laptop
and turned his ears in the direction
of the wandering melody before rubbing
his gray mouth against the screen,
and looking back at me as if to say
finally! Someone who prefers
this one over Shubert’s gaudy
excuse of a hymn. He then
departed, 20 measures in,
to finish off his wet food
to a delicate amen.
