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