Shiva's avatar in pink and chemical
curls, she your mother
hostesses container plantings: rude colors
scolded into urns or hung for punishment.
Pinned, her cushion marigolds grow manic and hopeless.
Discs of dancing eucalyptus, yet unlopped
try not to fidget when she simpers with hedge clippers
for cedars lose their heads here;
apples leap to adolescent suicide.
For keeping specimens with feet in line
her corridor upstairs is mined:
Between our doors, that murk of scatter-rug invites a
drop to quicksand or a punji trap, perhaps
starved tigers. Try one step
and candles rocket out of bottles
loosing toxins,while a hundred hammers cock
-- gunbarrels poised behind wallpaper posies.
Still, something slinks by night
across that landing, splashing ink and sequins.
Undomesticated and glistening, something
laces with my lashes
now, and the air crowds
solid between us.
Always between us there are jungles
moondefined. Vines sway with our breathing, tendrils
teasing. Roots unbound discover pyramids, found
galaxies beneath moss-efflorescent pathways
padded in black's green.
Ferns tree: risk height, reveal pearlsticky constellations;
words sprout stele, cue wild hums and chases
tissued by hibiscus and spice rain.
To the springloaded slap of orchid stalks
macaws in neonfeather jackets cry
Borderless, the scents