He Breaks Another Bottle, I Go For a Walk
White glass shatters differently than clear glass;
clear glass scatters into tiny, invisible pieces,
while white glass breaks into frosted chunks.
Cows walk on their two back hooves when farmers aren’t looking.
The sun makes its mark on the farmer’s wrinkled arms
while cows play chess, and read novels on split tree trunks.
Book discussions occur on Sundays.
A sword gets pulled out of a stone by a flimsy boy,
and the girl made out of stone falls in love.
There’s a partridge in a pear tree by the bus stop where I wait
for the sunset to drown arrogant trees
and wonder what lies under the orange seam,
and how exactly I can get there.