thirty-one.

"and now for something completely different"

i.
'no ideas but in things' and there
are oh so many things from which they
spring like things spring in winter
slow. maybe dark. blended like coffee.
scarves and sweaters as the snow watches me-

ii.
cherry flavored lips (i'd like to bite into
the curve of your pear) a banana could
spoon you if you let it get to know you.
the stawberries and blackberries would attend the wedding
and your children would be the dreams of all fruit juice flavors
shared by couples on the beaches of puerto rico and aruba
a dutch possession

iii.
how am i supposed to let you know the way i feel about you?
shakespearean ways are too cliche and searching the stores
for the perfect hallmark card would be cheapening it for you i think.
the thought would be there, but the words would be missing
maybe in a jungle full of lemurs and three-toed sloths, hey
you like them. maybe a collage of baby sloths
or pictures of sloths painting a jungle where we could live
in a hut amongst the natives and engage in their culture
but the baby would die

iv.
a nebula you found in yourself and shared with me
better than the gold of cortez or the humble spread
of european diseases to our ancestors
or an oboe solo which is something we have never heard
OH, GOD-

v.
a few things are small,
like poems, pumpkins, and promises
and that's all we really know.