Come on, (my heart works for donuts and sourdough)

I love monsters. (tigers fallen asleep in low-oxygen air)

I’ve always wanted to plunge (my fingers tremble)

Into their crinolines (the lay preacher pays the hospital bill)

And refill my perfume bottle. (a hellish trombone crushes)

Low calorie (release my neck and wrists from the stockade)

Breathing apparatuses filter out (brings in a flower)

The soft relenting voice of my lover. (defunct)

I want to sleep (sleep beneath a living plum tree and sew)

On a quiet sea trip. (the Mafioso’s son cuts love in half)

I’ll tally by candlelight (this song is for the eels)

Until the police come with a carving knife and cut open (asserting the weight of your beauty)

The glutton’s fat throat. (it rains appraisals)

On the couch (no one visits me in Labrador)

A forgetful cat burglar (lives in her bush)

Pours out kisses, (and Lethe dances in)

Delicate (a man who fell asleep in a dustbin, awoke and found himself on the moon)

Predictions (commentary on the job market goes)

And a virgin’s change purse. (the martyr closes the deer’s mouth)

In the attic the supplicant (don’t last forever)

Sucks on a raccoon (pouring taffy, mother)

With no pants on. Cigar smoke (L. ate his bun)

Sails in by the valley-full (until the charming sneeze)

And the jailer loses his keys. (it didn’t occur to me)