looking for waves
hundreds of new waves,
on behalf of futures
manufacture lampshades
the paper,
rounded and wired
soft silk circles
wide at the bottom
narrowed at the top
drive mad cold,
drink night down,
like shot of green liqueurs
elaborate piano language,
from indigo painters
to the proud sunny boxers,
cream pity on the dream
purple cold south, in search of fact
condensate day old clouds
You and Gertrude screw the frosted green dawn
like smoke, half in a dream, on behalf of the clouds,
You stopped buying flowers, while also laughing at ice in summer,
a dream in a song
cold flowers satisfaction,
hope will find pregnant a "mystery of singularity"
along with the inconvenient poetry struggling to find rain interested in clouds