Come one come all lock the door lay back banana hammock - shananana, panic! - Back burning ghosts in obtuse paddock, bats fall flat splat in tatters from orchid branches swaying in stiff winter murmer and inspiration catching stars like baseball gloves pitching holy hell, evoking red velvet rocking chair floating off floor of pat-i-o an' low slow bow-tied knots 'round aching tooth from fish bone and tap water tilting in
glass from 14,000miles away carried in a suitcase, and I remembered how wildflowers courted seraphim so resulting lovechild of Northern North America could hot bathe marrow of bone in reservations owned by Indians to meet me across from Eiffel Tower of little Paris fresh with smell of jasmine
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