DECISION OR DECOY OR DREAM

Oh Decision
that ageless workbook of many guts! Hark!
I stand here in this lush lawn of the heyday
like a death mask on the verge of smiling, looking
upon the grassy terrain & what must be done.
What are these fleeting days but looking through
a reversed opinion glimmer!

Then
an aubergine- & cerulean-colored butterfly
landed on my vermilion-faded lawnmower
& forthwith I noticed that the grass
in stop-motion edit-jumps
had begun to cut itself with the apparent
invisible hands of Samuel Barber!

& now
the sounds of whipped-up changelings
or saffron wasps zing-zinging in the corner
of something that echoes out with an ancient audible
stinging the air that swallows like gulps while
the seemingly glinting sacchariferous spiderwebs
outside of the windows need me to
wisp them up onto a needle-point, weaving
a continent of caffoy, elk-wing & cambium

& now
the sounds of dozens of insects dropping
from the trees, out of pines, oaks, dogwoods,
out of the sweetgums
that drop their spiky goblin tokens full of seeds
towards this Spring-soaked grassy dew’s
iridine tranquility

& now

I look under bricks specifically to see

what life’s living there: ants

carrying egg-sacs, roly-poly rolling thunder, beetles

with the hearts of jackals, & behind me,

near the back of my heel, a scorpion

with a tail like a witch’s claw

& now

the sounds of the apple’s core

around the worm’s inchy-body like

petulant children doing all of the things

that one might guess, hiccuping

sour air’s misfortune as I perpetually fall off

the tomato wagon of tomorrow’s nightmarish future.