We left ourselves as gods somewhere back in childhood
Motherwhitepicketfences
Flawless friends and even more flawless arts
Shedding brownjacket defenses against the weather
The moon never dimmer than the sun
The tides never bigger than our bodies
Listen, a seraphim sweeps up from hell
Carrying fall leaves in wing
A man boasting the business pages at the street corner
Covers his right wrist and twists
A memory from his stomach
It never looked so glossy as it did today
Out of the business pages at the street corner
Tidy, wingless flies on the tongue
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