His ears, a the back of his head.
his forehead.
His hair, a the back of his face.
his foreface.
His smile, a the curve of his mouth
round found mouth
his foremouth
I am watching him
Climbing over a porch
whistling, the julep in juniper
and he’s an improper servant of the law
my lord,
I’m served the sentences that played a your lips,
with my own free mind.
Climbing over the tree,
dangling,
he is an immortal messenger of the law,
I am a pleading to the witness to your eyes
on my own free mind.,
and I am staring at the watch,
and,
slipping through the cool dew
with ice blue pools,
and the rules of life and of lying
rules of smiling and dying
pairs of x and y
inwardly wise, not without the contradictions,
in sprawling grass,
his smile, o the curve of his mouth; alkalinity
and the maze of dust left on the post, the
way the air brushes over the everywhere,
touching nothing
just being strung along and along.
Copyright 2015 Golden Star Poetry
Golden Star Poetry 