Simple like an asteroid,

Arrogant like a few pillows,

Stamps like approval,

Not a funny poem,

Serious eyebrow poem,

Unbuttoned shirt poem,

A poem wearing floods and, in a sweater,

Vagrant with the fingerprints of an ill-played tuba,

Simple like how a carrot looks in the fourth dimension,

Simple poem about sidewalk cracks,

And if not for my complex feet: in the fifth dimension flowers are made of string theory,

I just want to write poems of unwanted words,

The empty bowl that only knows the echoes,

Is there anywhere for the universe to pull over, to park, to fall in love?

I’ll write poems too, small ones, by an open window, the moon like a dog licking a plate,

What’s to be whittled, and what dust, from what moon, did rake the sun?