Word for/ Word

Jeff Harrison

Take Them, Take Them

taste the dials, color them

dead & muddied, you

recollected flesh, you

unbroken sunflower

take them to your

nothing-inked country,

you goodish person

I love your pawnbroker's

vest, your greenish silhouette

time pales never for trees,

mortal, dropping berries, tall

as a stair... you are stationed

in the undergrowth with

imaginary petals where you

pace, misused above twilight

drowsing quickly, don't drop,

with the birds, onto childish plums

you've never wanted apples so badly