THE LAST TIME YOU MET THE SABERTOOTH
Was the time when you knew your mind
Was buried in the unforgiving snow.
It’s a process from the unconscious,
Something you wish you can rewind
By asking the wind to warm the forest up.
POOLS OF MERCURY ARE APPEARING
With your shoes infected in fandango mold.
Elk would drink and grow dead tree horns,
Killing any bird who lands on them.
You must know about this, the attempt
For your ideas to be in a physical place.
I PLAY THE CARAMEL DRUMS TO DANCE
The acidity away from your body
A ritual you see as terrorizing
Is a calling to the mother of topaz,
Polishing your fractured glasses
For a view of plains instead of pain.
I URGE YOU WITH MY SAPPHIRE RING
To wear it and let the blue stream enter,
Cleaning your blinding perfections
That don’t fix what is already whole;
A ghost of sharp metals won’t lead you
To a luxurious house of warmth and brightness.
