in the old white painted brick
multiply your presence

flock of girl songing
into the winged everything

a pigeon's mouth triangled
between old buildings soft
as recorded twilight

we'll hold limbs together
in the curved shadow of a palm
well-worn circuits waking up to the river light
we wind these twigs around the crown
that is already crowned
and crowning

rip this day loose from the year
your slave clad forest deep in yellow leaves
among exploded vehicles
painted in heather
tongue halfway out
waiting

the quartz will shine like diamond commercial
watery doorways and a shrinking sun
we find champagne lives behind each other's teeth
webbed bridges country wide lighting up
interplanetary doorways
with the heat of taut strings

we'll walk floating when was
the last time you picked up a newspaper
when was the last time
a daffodil bit your cheek's light
without dropping coins

come down to the swamp of the woods
where the bicycles sleep
where carts tumble under the bridge
to gather mold from the water
and my android heart's arms
go to sleep in the program of your breasts
and I go to sleep waiting
and I wake up waiting
the war days and the war days
the dawn, the inarticulate birches.