hey jupiter

your river islands
are not green yet.

the gayest-ass ducks
haven't appeared

to laugh yet. dick crocus
are up tho. tupperware

moves to the streets
and children spake up.

the old men slump
against the wall

at the liquor store.
the sun begins to heat

them up. tupperware
pink light. look. shining

through the pillow
that knows your name

now laughs at this.
i am aflame. a dragon

begins to rise from my balls
and the greek sun rolls

over. like everything
in the world, everything

rolls over. because music
says it is spring again.

i am happy. nowhere.

"je fais la planche."

k.d. is singing.

planked between blues

above, below.

you gotta plank your fish.

the best chefs explain.

one guy cooked the tilapia.

without letting it set.

he didn't plank it,

it was the end.

the end.

of perfection.

cook with me.


funny fake perfection

humans allow.


oh maybe like snow. in russian novel.


you are a russian novel. already.


planking the spring.


the flowers.


are you merely planking me?


a tilapia. ne monkfish.


planked between two blues?


two chefs?


oh john, this spring. it won't phlegm the flowers again.