Ostrich! Flightless bird,
let me kiss you on the mouth.
you could forgive
the things I’ve done
to others.

It’s big stars out tonight,
let’s go to the movies
where the bad guys are Germans
because that’s the easy thing.

In the dark of the theater
French horns of desire,
your useless wings wrapped round me.

After we’ll walk
by the water, share a peach,
and go home to poetry
to find him gone.

So then what am I to do
with the nervous woodpile
out back?
The breeze I can’t feel
but can see in the branches?
The flesh of our peach?
The closed-eyelid sky?
My hungry guilt?
Your fuzz-love?

Stay over.

In the morning I’ll count church chimes
with my eyes shut.
You’ll do daily stretches in the dark.
The two dogs who meet
with tail-wag excitement
are you,
tall friend,
and me.

Let’s eat eggs, make a fire,
build a statue out of mud,
cover it with feathers, call it


to we who can dream
of no worse fate
than to arrive first
and therefore