CAM MaCDONALD

elbow to link shades   in darker
light to make double  in chanting
orange again for wondering
how to live and look down
without fear of desire
for your elsewhere    

 through speckled tile
    you call  to phone it in
for the whole city 
     yellow in geography 
the carousel of bodies
           like horses in the cloud of a page

and there the rings  non-hinging
  still to arrive    wander in the blank moon
     of ours and its only wish to
      pick up the dawn    out the left pocket
   until the writing   to what we live through
is sudden enough    to arrow me home

what more is there?
tangerine palms
open for you, pomegranate
teeth pulling again
like winter, and still
you desire more. this
was my wake with
the citrous dawn. so 
following the yellowing 
I spring up and out
of this hollow stink,
splay in coffin until
the day is new, let loose
the orange ghost. today
the daisies push you to an-
other grapefruit star on your spoon,
dipper in verse rung sour in ringing
    to answer   hello    it’s me   
    through the door  to break  our seasons
    fruitful    in waking    still    once more

today you would so I will
deny my pisces and
tighten my jeans as
docs stomp gently on 
swamps of leaves 
warmer in pieces this     
january living with
circumscribing bulb and
genes pooling

the biology of sunday
spills into will you
dive in for me would you
it’s fine yes promise
as the sunshine shining 
stamped glass and pulses
would you desire too will you
with stars exploding so

would you lie here 
tender and new
in the grapefruit glow 
astrology zipping between
trees and concrete 
nothing to be
leaved or left there will 

you anyways without
a sign unloosed
print under my skin 
dehydrated lemon for
fingers tighten around the
dizzy double helix we

dress and address 
in lamps in sidewalks in
plain sight yes promise there is 
a science to these 
evenings under limelight

undeniable and blue in
my denim my dumbness my
finding the unfounded between
skies and the cracks below it

and still to desire the myth between 
our streetlights our boots our
verses flickering uniform or elsewhere 

without the will would you still spill 
into this yes promise you will nothing

less than a universe nothing less