it twangs  melodic

from granddaddy’s wind chimes —

from there it runs like liquid mercury down,

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.

this tar

sweetened by the labor of my neighbor

my thoughts swirl into it and with it.

 

slapstick with matchsticks

and stuck

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.