You stand among the awkward hollyhocks,
big eyes, loves machinery not yet working,
The dandelions trampled, the tall grass twisting in the wind,
the lizard sulking in the sun.
You stand there like some new flower,
beautiful, not yet ready to be picked.
This summer belongs to the people of the world who want each other,
the lonely have no right
to share the summer sun.
See the dog, he doesn't move, a voyeur, nevermind,
what we've done is beautiful for gods and
animals to see, for us to stand aside in awe and
look ourselves up and down.
When you let go to me,
it detaches from me all the debts I've paid that day, smiles to
secretaries mean, dividends to competition in my work,
courtesy to those who break me
down.
Good morning to the elevator man.
Your thighs make over all the scales,
and so I
home to you.
To use your belly as a cape.
To cover up the day.