The Gazing Ball

Queenly swans nudge eternity figs

Yellow rose fire

Lit by a ghost breath

I’ve eaten you someplace before

Terrapin venom

Sopping cream suits

Heart-shaped chops

Beautiful, rare novels

Bedlam peacocks

Nip limbs a-rosy

Curtsy

The apricot cross

Absence roughs up

My dead dog in the blood

Of babysitters

Watching trains go by

Faraway, the orphan trots

A pure gold cell

Icing the slaughtered

Lamb cake

Bridal meat dolls

Pulse over the breakfast razor

Little porcelain

Poppet, hand

The tureen of blood

Now to papa

I’m a gentleman

Dressed in pink paper

Ballooned assless chaps

Float the violet quarry

Twin parsley letters rattle

The gun case

O brute may I come in

O brute you may

The poets who offed themselves

Have formed a small country