new false teeth

ten yards by five

on the fat

fat as were

in and out of my mind

I never remember her when she wasn’t cooking

into the Beachwood

beds of dead bees

snubbed me

bite the worm

 

other fingers

keeling thought as near to poetry

with butter-colored hair

 

with a big scissors

 

a June evening

the endless June evenings

never knew he was ruined