This place

I have made-crowded

With leaves and fairy tales,

And long blonde braids

That capture hummingbirds.

Raspberry and peach,

A divination in your mouth

To stop the world from coming.


You don’t belong here.

You crave the tide, the after-life of

Long dead things.


I cannot bring you into this place-

Too sweet, too green,

And you, being ABLE

to make sense of common things.