Of course I can, because I love to feel
useful. In fact, my tears are quite instrumental
& sound like Brahms handing out penny candy
to children. Salt water taffy! Licorice wheels!
It’s like the rain is two days late & I forgot
my ticket, so I’m running into the sadness
of August & hamsters, whatever the stars
pedal around in that furious orchestra
they set up in the sky. Let us reach,
my darling engine, the speed of a circus
cage swimming with light, squids opening
like jeweled umbrellas at the bottom
of the sea. Here comes the rain & all
its etceteras—the drumrolls, the windows
weeping. Now it’s really coming down.