the brilliance of bowing bows

[wordsaredreams]

really nice guy blind in one eye and a
half horizontal heart to the sky and
smiling oregon smiles

nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn

voice

nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn

joy is a juggler who's dropped
his swords and flicked
his tongue to tips of teeth to
form words from

the mime's decree, a monument to mimicry

nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn

voice

nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn

every moment is a straw hat tilted to
timelessness, a bow to the bow and
arrow pointing omnidirectionally

the squirrel scurries
the chipmunk scampers cross
ant hill heavens
having just realized the chirping
bird sings not only
to breadcrumb, but
to bliss
to orchid, poppy, and pampas grass

the bird nods between whispers
to worm-tinged baby's breath
in acknowledgement
that knowledge meant

meaningless marches to
aphrodesiacal aprils that twirled
hair in the fingers of
may day day dreams

june tips its hat to you and

yawwwwwwwns

the heat

painted toes know far too well as
chests swell with a sweltering swagger
swung round street posts like childhood
swings singing songs
to traffic
to 1988
to radiation and rhubard cake

stuck

between gaps in teeth
under fingernails hailing a
waxing moon taxi to tracheatomies echoing through hallowed hallways that lead

every where
knowing where eve elongated the necks of photographs and

laughed
her
laugh

let
eyes
blur
to sharpness

the harpsichord has left its doors unlocked having
sufficiently seduced us with canker sore keys we
never needed

our training wheeled knees bleeding
bliss amidst the
pine tree trinity

trying to remember we need not
try at all and

remembering parking lot rainbows that
bowed like brittle birds and
blind men visions of
portland.