THE POWER OF POWDER
luck hangs around at late
evening when there’s no way of seeing through
the double-glazed image of my face
or torso, slow shoulders-
as GO-GO and sunny and known yet
all in the way that reservations are
made for me then slide from me; I don’t know anyone here; everyone here
has been here forever, in becoming seasoned
made the carnival graceful
and in giving us no tools, once penetrated
how exactly, does
the body weep?
& in giving you no clue this
is how I exhumed a daydream.
I’m giving you no depriving
you of ontological ground then
confiscating the sand leftover.
I’m giving you no looming
you but strapping you down
to a fire safety regulation.