31 July, 2015

I Dipped This Poem in Pollen

Too much butter upon
not enough bread
Fat and flour
I will be a disappearing act

Flowers have no fat
but make the air much fuller
The flowers in summer
disappear, eaten on bread

This poem smells like earwax
It is putrid
I felt lilies in the heavy air once
I’ve disappeared since then

The lilies smelled like butter
mixed with ancient perfume
I will not vanish, I will disappear
eating lilies

I dipped this poem in pollen
to see if its bees could still find it
They only smell the wax
Putrid disappearing acts

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