All the poems
Of my neighbors
That drift across the sand
Are just the tendrils
Of a vast
But gentle plant which they command
The headdress
Of a goddess
You wore the night we came
Is only
One small symptom
And really not to blame
You’re riding a tiger
Riding a tiger
Heaven
Sent the mortals
Ranged upon the wall
And likewise
All the missiles
Shot to make them fall
Effortlessly
Moving
Picture into frame
Riding a tiger
Riding a tiger
Riding a tiger
Over the bleachers
Into the sky
Into the reach of some
Cool goodbye
Key grip was crying
Best boy was me
Here in the sheltered knoll