What Was That Cover Letter For?
Jonathan Levant
couldn’t they tell hate mail from submission
nasty student types measuring their coke spoons
they ruin my grammar and garble my rhetoric
legs akimbo buddha sits
on the firehydrant
preaching the fire sermon
little boy bright in my arms
kiss a hand kiss a spider
the streets drink your feet
the statues weep sand
sonnets would wing the walking paragraphs
hammer nails into hummingbirds in flight
go tell the roadie the old rock group is dead
autumn that lines the womb of winter
to the squirrels the trees are hoops of fire