I saw the air this morning

Leap from water without warning,

Made of pollen which the spring

And open, unscreened windows bring,

Landing on our limpid surfaces

At admittedly cross purposes,

Falling from the heavens when 

It really means to mount again,

A suggestive sort of sunrise

From the Kohler's fluid skies,

Sexy particles that flounce 

Around the hidden thermal founts

Which populate the steamy air 

Above a bathtub's glassy lair,

Come to pollenate the nude

With a field's solicitude,

The workings of the heights made clear 

In their lower hemisphere.


July 16th, 2002

9:32 - 9:37 AM

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