a garden is a bathroom full of drag queens painting their faces like the open sky
blue glitter and a touch of cumulus highlight a garden with spears and heels that’s
my heaven everyone is invited but my queen has been here forever gets to choose
where the trees go which summer flowers grow i come here during the
day watch my gardener bend over to tend his bed watch his face smoothed by
sunlight see his past in his forehead wrinkles and he is fine too sometimes i come
to the garden at night when the moon is fullest i look up and hear the sea roaring
its pleasure i wish someone would move me like that a garden is a bathroom stall
waiting to be filled with three girls in skirts shimmering like a desert heat wave. . . .