The Corporeal Other

That one who scribbled a spiral on a chalkboard
& said, “Here is your pinky, here’s when I leave.”

That one’s the hole in the sugarsphere.
Where do they sell those gritty wings? Lawn darts

abstract the lawn. Mother says: “Tell everyone
you love them before they’re gone.” A death, like a friend,

is sunny June, when you’re Georgia peach.
Two children gather in a circle, clasp a doll &

hope the Lord will appear. Where two or more are
gathered in my name -- nothing like the absence

where God had been. Like madmen, later, they swore
at the sky. How do you say my fridge is full,

when we once starved? God & I picked out the pears.
“Pears,” said one, “want something more.”