Sonnet: Tango Bouquet
Hes and shes, God thought, what can I do for them
that I haven't already done? Once we boarded their
veins up, they had nothing good to say anymore.
Tawdry mimosas sprang up on cafe tables everywhere,
and no one seems to have noticed. If brains were
muscles, then all minds could be lifted up.
Something with something always gets along for two
or three days, circling the plaza, first one way and
then the other. Eyes plucking the birds from the sky.
Someone's corsage hung from a flagpole, dipping
and waving in the biscuity breeze. Stores open
till ten, now that darkness upon us has fallen.
The disjuncture of what men seek, someone said.
Or maybe the word was departure, someone thought.
Hal
Halvard Johnson
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