1

last time I saw you
it was some kind of
parable

you’d just gone through
the drive-thru
in a canoe
you tried to paddle
and eat a cheeseburger
at the same time

I pulled up in my car
you attempted to wave

ketchup dribbled down
your wrist

a couple in a convertible
drove over
a pickle
you’d dropped in a handicapped space

in heaven I’m an angel and
my wings begin to moult
now the veins of my wings
like the veins of my eyelids
are visible when
I stand before the sun

they’re like the Mississippi Delta
only without the
cheese

2

when someone
on earth
puts the perfect
amount of mustard on
a hot dog
an angel puts away
his harp
makes himself
a hot dog
pulls bread from the clouds
the dog from a memory of flesh
the brilliant white of the celestial
countertop
just dazzling
dazzling
white and clean

3

my child
my leather tongue
my watered-down heart
myopic fingers
little fuzzy briefcase with the brass locks

these are metaphors for
the mayonnaise of our times
the invincible dirigible
that is rigorous thought in these
the moments before
the mandible
when I slept last night
angels were licking a map
of Manhattan
from my thighs

the map was Heinz
and my heart
a solitary
cheeseless
pizza
bereft of crust

Ed McMahon call my name
telephone Kinsmen let me pledge
my child
my walking bones
my life that is a feather in a cheese dog

I am willing to die for this