You huddle into a shield or breastplate,
a whisper in the dark summoning your kin 
one by one along the frontier. In your kingdom,

Sweet neighbor of the green forest 
Eternal guest of April in bloom 
Archenemy of the brambleberry 

I have been courting sleep
and catering to its taste in nightgowns.

I have poured it heady, vintage wines

Down from the mountains of Appalachia
and the highs of new love
I’ve come across the extended monotonies

Burnt by lightning    nevertheless
she’ll walk this terra infinita

lashes singed on her third eye 

The moods of the cantaloupe king are moods

Of the melon king in green variations.

Both entered the orange parlor like nations

The model prisoner
edges his way through
the narrow gap between

It means stand still. It means
stay just as sweet as you are
and where you are and don’t do

If a man is his desire 
if a man is his desire 
if a man is his desire 

This world so 
golden so un- 
reachable this