Often I turn on people

in rather strange &

inexplicable ways.

The source of

the irritation

escapes me.

It always has.

Sometimes

my heart just

opens and

all the lions

get called

back to some

other corner

of the cave.

You'd probably

laugh at the

flowers I

bought tonight.

Bluish purple

& they don't

even have

a name, "Name?"

pronounced the

man at the

fruit stand

he shook

his head

and laughed.

These purple

flowers have

no name. &

no smell. But

the room s

smelled & looked

different when

I brought them

in with me.

For instance

I was gentle

with their

stems while

I thought

about how

many lovers

have told

me I'm

rough. These

are hearty

thick stems

yet I slipped

the elastic

off their

limbs as

if I were

a servant

undressing

the president's

child. Just

thinking of her

for once. Oddly

alive & being

touched by

me in this

practical way.

The whole thing's

off-kilter the

way my purple

flowers grow.

Something that

makes sense

in February.

I have enough sense

to buy flowers

now. But such

strange ones.

Sprayed. Their

eerie color

is not real.

At least not all of it.

Maybe none of

it. The eerie

little branches

from which

piney green leaves

grow & I guess

that's real. But

the 287,

no I mean

thousands

of faintly blue bells

I can hardly see

I must be getting old

up close they make me feel dizzy

the fineness, the wealth of this pseudo-life

tiny balls, pale blue

with a sliver of a tongue

sticking out or sometimes

everything's teeny & sexual

it's sort of like underpants

a cover or case

hat's purple & the little

ball is blue.

I don't know why this wave

of a plant belongs in my vase.

I needed something fake to

start me up. Something

I could be gentle

with just to try.

Looking hard I say Baby

I don't know why I can

give you everything

& I'm dazzled by your frown.