(no subject)

on tiptoe a taproot wedged
between two stones & so stubbornly
it grew. a dove born impossibly
from a top hat, you loved me.
the sidewalk buckles over a
patient pressure, a clever
slow motion explosion. slithering
tributary come to tangle my
best laid plans. nothing listens.
the birds grow gills & the ocean
will not stay inside its name,
becomes catacomb & bottomless belly,
blood & bloom, wets the mouth of saint,
slave, swine, loves unasked &
unwelcome & wrongly despite
your complaints, its imperfections &
the husks of lost lovers caught
in its throat, a growing trove
of precious stones, ivory beads
pillaged by a strange magpie
a slow sweet murder.