from recovered poems

stepping through a field

of marbles, maple trees

on either side and sunlight

sprained on late summer grass

all along Stonewall Point

things you said and did

grew green as daisies in

unruly masses of leaves

lay side-by-side your words

mine with ears of corn

and fireflies the night

I burned and lied about

the peacock bush I never

saw you yawn before

it was a garbage can

flies like christmas lights

dancing on dog shit

but it’s true I love when

sunlight spent on corn

excites this dusty pastel

air and august fills the lungs