imprints of Mexican children circumnavigate your curves;
the lady like bootlegger mudflaps covered the cracks
and saw all the pipes heating up till they busted
haiku's not written yet were already learned from an early age
You stepped from this world into a garden and the garden is You.
planted in sawdust and watered by cowboy spit-
at least you got off and out of the pot
Yage screenprints the mind in tide-dyes of ultraviolet
or was it infrared? I can never remember which is denser
or which caused the riot.
a priestess still taking confessions of remorse
Why, B. Did he do it?
broken toilet bowls spell out Y E S like alphabet soup once purged into its crevasses
porcelain dolls with cracked heads never made it that long anyways.
I stepped into the Garden and it was You.