Front And Main

You can kneel/on four corners/of the chamber./I’m provided/ with beds and canopies./ I pull red sashes,/I relive my exploits,/ I seek a world in the yard/ until my feet quake./ These objects remain/ in tiny houses/I take license, /I spread my distraction./I taste a mineral flavor/I draw attention to the ceiling./ Where I watch lovers /twine on the park lawn, /they mingle to quit the cupola./ I know this town;/by strains of pop songs, /where décor won’t matter./You give up rime to answer/ the bygones, the goodbyes, they /mete out love/ in the garden./My tongue wraps around a flower:/ I discovered it in public.

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