So for only one night with nurses and sombreros

Only for the good of my country, before I blacken the tea pot

After or behind what with which you yelled from the brown field. A mule

Buried your company’s mirror

Bringing out or the hope chests you drag across the kitchen floor to Hollywood.

Close your eyes and doors on nurses who wither short from brandied diets

Court-ordered and herein lies the difference: a flame a foundry your collection of hard-working Her stars

And the viper serving petite-fours.

You enter into an agreement listening for dazed trumpeters leaning or dozing against haystacks.

Your if you’re in the desert and vote your hand falls off, banging your knee

The lamentable cries of wolves and jewelers

And of the dazed sous-chef burning his tongue on his mother’s cooking.

Lazy, shutting his eyes slowly, he has had a bad day. Dazed yard workers lobbed bricks

And the comptroller flew off in a rage. Dazed, he walked old and past the baklava.