Monday, May 4, 2020

Bigger Garden 4

caught making sense
line breaks open 
windows, world bubbles
between rose city and me
all toasted candy

earlier, I wrote some
bullshit I mean fiction 
about this time 
last year— yearning
when I took her to the bar
with dust

she stirs with songs
wakes up with the sun 
turning on like an oven

there are sprouts
better than my garden
along the garage walls

patience with

turned on by
squishing letters

touching on 
as the only 
viable transition