loom

early in the morning
at noon
the dirt began to breathe
in reddish sneezes
over tissues
where radishes
spin a helix knit
into a bouquet of teeth

then the grandparents
for cakes of egg
at the cafe
and there was hundreds
of basketball players around there
and we talked
of the aunt who makes
lace
we will meet her

then the sun
had its surgery
I cursed soileil
i told its butter and oil
to go away

with a whisker tounge
on my left arm
suctioned like a slug
stealing all of my
shine and sheene
for the milk of the green bean
to keep the radish growing

how many piano keys
scuttered by
like a thread
keeping a line
One million?

many hitchikers
one town
waited for shakespeare
but got a bus of pucks
waiting for dumpsters
to fill up
but all there was:
planters of bald
wheat grass
I looked

Pretty old California
pink sleeping rock sasquatch
aluminum boats
so stupid
they stare like cows
the opossum
peers out of a quilt
of soybeans
to shine peeled-grape eyes
and put one claw
to the shoulder
I notice

If nobody minds
I am going to eat
chrysanthemum flowers
and make a pillow out of petals
and disappear into the folds of Oakland
and make a tea
out of every bee's attention for me
because as far as I know,
I hold no pollen
I will make a Jacuzzi out of every day,
my whistle may sound exactly like a harpsichord
I will not jump out of a car
because of sun fever
on the Interstate 5 to Los Angeles
instead I will pogo into a creek
and drink bubonic
courtesy of Du Pont.
Please after you read this, send me a telepathic message. I will be totally available tomorrow for wireless communication.