She dyed her hair purple for summer. She would go well with purple, although she told me what she actually tried was a dark blue, but it all washed out
and left a ring around the bathtub. She may try again, but it seems that her hair is too dark to dye. She did say
if the light hit it certain way
a halo of blue shone around her hair. I didn’t even ask for poetry.

There are three types of British Swans. The first is the mute swan. Nobody cares about the other kinds.
Mute swan were made from the left over’s from Adam. He gave a rib and we forget that he got a hole, so
We are born beautiful
Our hearts and grails hidden beneath floorboards.
I don’t think they have swans in Ohio.

“I’m losing my words to you.”
Typewriters
are continually on my mind. I dream of their fingers flooding
private heavens,
laid quivering in rows.

Do you believe in guitar, gutter girl?
It was raining a little grey rain today.
I called you so I could get the answering machine.
I was afraid of what would happen if you picked up.

The aural canals of birds are much more sensitive than ours.

An ash tray under a tree.
The man before me missed you too, he smoked a pack for me.
I sit among the swans and angels, who are singing hymns from green beer bottles.
And every time a star goes by I make a wish for you.

“That bum is going to go use your money to buy alcohol”
Every time I walk away, I breathe a little bit harder.

They’re here.
I knew before I came that they would descend and alight with the sound of cherubim.
So
Let’s
Go
blow up the swans
The fucking,
Symbolic
swans

Their eyes like trumpets.