Of magic
You cannot prepare for magic,
it is an irrational disaster
of joy.

Luck's parade
is a marching band blowing up horns,
tumbling pop cans down pavement..
all flags.

This justice is for lovers,
a wedding of runaways
three to a hula hoop
nine to a star.

Magic is a circus,
a surprising shower of clowns
a pink stampede of horses
and sleepover clouds.

my first blue ribbon in black and white.

                                             love

i'm building a boat out of my heart.
a ship to voyage.
you are invited.
i will need your long arms for sails
you can be king
of the animals.
the maps are drums

the charts are in a lonely language
 i prefer being lost.
let's listen for direction
let's see in a blind faith
a twin compass of clouds.
no wind between us
everything behind.