it twangs melodic
from granddaddy’s wind chimes —
from there it runs like liquid mercury down,
into hearts unchristened and eyes of children.
into my mouth it poured
waxy but smooth, unfamiliar
till it settled.
now my heart beats through it like
molasses, and like molasses
I thought it was sweet at first.
sweetened by the labor of my neighbor
my thoughts swirl into it and with it.
slapstick with matchsticks
Here — in tidal alternations of rooster orange and familiar blues
it’s an easy comedy.
the kudzu wrapped itself around me.
my fate will be a gentle drowning.