First, know I wished for too much—
tapioca in a cracked bowl the shotgun seat
of an Oldsmobile a blues song Stevie Wonder
A train
moaning in the dark July afternoon.
We speak of boxcars of leaving of the topography
of this state—
The sky darkens you sigh I wonder what gods
are these that threaten us with oncoming rain
I wonder where the rabbits on the roadside go
when the rain comes
I taste your tapioca & it has hardened
tiny matte pearls. The rain comes turns
to hail we sit in your car with empty space
between us endings all around us.
I think again the rabbits do the glass pearls
strike them
do they lie protected by another body
or comforted sharp blades of sawgrass