Things have changed so quickly
— people waking up to find
the food they eat is poisoned,
the words they use a wounding of themselves,
their life support a glitterbox of lies
containing all the facts they call the world
illusion save the love that two can share
out of its frozen words, infallible measures.
The nixie naiads swim like coy
around the rose-infested cub scout house
as one more Portuguese water dog
with gooey eyes that shine a love
that only can be given out of many lives together
is clipped into her school bus seat again.
The strawberry moon bends
like any curvature of light,
a jewel hanging in the gaudy night;
it is we who do all the moving.
