Who did the blue school
who bruised the wound
who had the goddess of love in her lap
to make herself happy—make
a village of love for your shadow
to live in so that
your shadow and your shadow’s friends may be
unlonely living with all other ombres
I’m giving away all my belongings
in language to make myself happy must start
with “my language” then find
chains of correspondence
for the world’s every articulate hand and finger
(it’s what touches the world)
a shadow hombre shows me the way toward the deepest umbers
like having an orgasm in your
happy
*This poem was published as a poetry trading card by Fact-simile.
