Picture of King Arthur Riding an Ass into Rome

Busier at the buffet with the current increase in late style,

we enact our own with mealy palms laying on referenda like cucumbers with grooves

peeled so they fit in our serrated eyes.

All the diversions and cones float beneath the bus

and some soldiers come home to empty apartments. I summon you

out of my current surroundings: the Sacre Coeur,

bent-out-of-shape windowbox holders, the bagged statuary at Versailles.

It isn’t working. You’ll later read what I sent you, so you can think about it then,

but I’ll have it edited and make sure I am up to enough.

I am thinking about you though I wish I could

think         you. The sun rises on syntax also if you’re about someone

with something to love that’s close enough to important.

Just take the note and hit it. Hold it whole if possible. The fences     we’ll put in

in the post-hole era. The line producer was also on screen the most

and is credited as a secondary grip. Here is the structure, up ahead,

supported by seven temps. Do you know

why they would say that? I do not know

why they would say that. Just go back to the I-miss-you-more-than-I-can-say

well and be believed. I see Psyche, and Love ravishing

her, and You, and soft Venuses with a shady satyr.

Mercury also carrying away Psyche, this sniff this immediate allergen

is pretty much you not being here. I wish I knew why itches hurt—

or at least why mine do so bad I have to stop.