There’s allez room on this paper piste
where flies won’t settle in umbrella jars
as long as your not offended when I get up
and go to make room for you on the already
And don’t waste all your wishs feeding
those flying fishes that curled in palms.
As a child on the slopes.
Cutty sark body art stencils cast shadows
from wire hangers socks filled with
numbered rules set in stones dropped
and what did the cockatiel
do after the last crystal refill.
As signals set light to the torch after dark
And I won’t drink until you do.