falling with a splash
in a round clay ashtray. I lay
flat on my back as smoke
billowing black, dances

a waltz up on the table
stage. Thick as clouds on a
rainy day. Tossed like a salad
and swept like

hay. Riding the wind
like a stallion. Cut up and thin
like a scallion topping the
soup. Flaky and loose like

snow on a spruce. Soft as the sand
in the dune. Dried up like a ma’s
jar of prunes. Shadows bite me in
late afternoon.