“pilot boy” from HIS&HERS
He who navigates the one wall
He who lives in that glass plating all the time now
No complaints just a face not implicated in its smile
He who rides it out under the walnut tree, what’s complicated
She for whom that tree is coming down by all that’s holy
Her personal hotel holy
book edition in which the lesser-known Acts
are shown to be apocryphal by the editors
A book that old with no fauna of its own
He’ll be our pilot we are over the earth units
of Nebraska it is dawning on us—
He for whom the trappings of rank should mean so much
is wearing a green painter’s hood and tourniquet vines
The windows are poring up in 10,000 halliards of green
Posted 09/12/11