Long-legged, dandelion woman,
Tell me about your trees.
My occipital puffed out in some clouds.
My heart flying like four bees.
You sit but 20 miles across from me
In a situation: café blue.
I send you smoke signals like Cochise
About wampum and morning dew.
Then you buy your 22 bags of bagels.
Like last night’s moon you’re gone.
I caught your two eyes at the door.
Now I sit a lonesome pawn.
I cry like a banshee at midnight.
I pour from a bottle of gin.
The start of another nothing-new day—
Your legs, I think, a sin.