cairn of grand assumptions

as you walked out this morning
I wondered on your smoothness
and the birds you taught to fly

books couldn’t write what
your money and musical voice
understood

paragraphs of
feathered clauses
lifted you to
insane flight

and

preposterous rumors of your death
circumnavigated the world
and fell spent in
Texas bushes

when we married
the never
in that thought gap
between bridge and
Water Ouzel
we staggered
drunk

remember to pamper, preen,
and fix your collar
you said
this isn’t god damned
Yellowstone after all
you can’t get away
with that mangy bison
shit here at the dipper
bridge. we’re high fuckin’ class
or should be
you art historian

sorry
winter sits on
me lightless
while Englishmen
boil in Brexit

one night down at the
Apollo where I’ve
never been I ran
into your sculpture
or thought I did

I was, at the time
contemplating rippled clouds
over turbulent olive seas
meandering through
massive memories
of yesterday
coaxing spiders
from their dark corners

Are you proposing we
cuff ourselves
to the bed
and playfully
punish our
sorrows?

a boy, Sunday,
rifled through my briefcase
looking for caramels.
he found photographs
of his parents instead

on what mistake
did I leave off?
was it your family
or mine destroying
the roadside special
poem of us?

we were thinly
sliced pond ice
over Wordsworth water.

all the winter
evenings died
their dark cold
fiction

walk now through
my lover’s woods
to the still standing
cairn of grand
assumptions

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