Twelve floods

Twelve floods loft seed pod. Rat tail sway. The
utopians will never go away. They play "Louie Louie"
for hours on acoustic guitar.
A fat kid fights trees with sticks and kicks.
I hide behind the generating plant of the cancer hospital
where my father almost died then didn't.
Sun off the synagogue cupola
   the yellows tar.
Wind encounters the wandering curtain.
A black bug cruises blindly beside the park.
Joggers dog walkers and aeroplanes spook.
You can't eat out on doubt says the garbagecan candyman
an old Chinese undertaker. She stretches her legs on the sandbox barricade.
A distinguished operator, her joints crackle like cotton candy.
The sparrows scared and dropped dead of exhaustion.
The province of days lined up at filling stations.
What mischief you have begotten. Forgotten.
She called my mother Senora. The daughter the ghoul digger.
Waiting for you to get home from work.
Morning sun. Men buzz on the roof with guns
eating from the butter maple dollops of pollen.