[Jimmy crack corn and I don’t care]

Jimmy crack corn and I don’t care.

Jimmy crack corn and I don’t care.

A light peck cracks the constellation.

They want our secret without becoming like.

They want our secret to undo.

Jimmy crack corn and I don’t care—

a pure harpoon dissolves in outer space.

Bone by bone, we have backed too far

in divulgence to frost with reticence,

nor do we look as happy as the indigenous.

Stars, we trusted you!


Brimming over a secret alone, the end

of its thought must be lost in a hum.

Jimmy crack corn and I don’t care—

The waves explode but cannot kill a snail

whose castle is the quiet

on a nun’s navel.



[The broom falls from her arms—]

The broom falls from her arms—
The dancer sputters from honest sleep,
“How weak these arms! Like reins stripped
From my pale thighs.
The city looks an hourglass, though pulverized!
I am sure to be strewn first and wide
By the senses’ gravities
While peas neck and neck
Bolt the sun;
Children bowl over a drugged green, each blade they press
Cricks up after them, halt!
Whose nature is still in nature sealed—they do not guard
It as though a scarcity.
Do not confront me piqued in synch,
My vision vast on air:
Denial oils the loins,
My savings become my leech.”

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