From an Earlobe

My father shades the uneaten oranges with his thigh Makes strong tea from seaweed ember tags Flagging, the shaded lips broke Tag the blue-toothed evening Understand, imperial shades wrung states Ships once tagged the shores Under a shade stars turned I burn the seaweed ember tags Map raking fires, then the white bells (Someone talking about the exchange rate) If our raked shells Could talk If our raked shells Could not talk “From an earlobe”: two rakes, EKG readouts, talking slippers, an orange.

return to SHAMPOO 31