invisible planets are puppeteers
that play with the birds
[i watch with you]
making them tumble through Parmesan clouds,
salt-and-pepper trees, and spicy rivers
that lead to the sea-
at which point the puppeteers start playing with fish
and their vile cheese-grater skin,
making them undulate their limbless bodies
and stare blankly, straight ahead, with round blueberry eyes
and gaping mouths.
I am like a jellyfish,
and you are the frothing, popping, rice cracker waves-
and when the horizon melts into the opaque sky
and the moonless night obscures my face
you can pretend I am more than I am.
