DECLARATION

If raindrops of soda go down through his cranium
and fuse his neck with the sidewalk

I will go down my alley on a salt road
and bring him a thin hallway
with dry hair on its walls.

If taffy clouds are in his escape mirrors
there will be time on the plate
and a sound in the bottom of the funnel,
light green.

There will be, at the end of a long living chair,
two people (a nonsensical couple) kissing
hard.