Dear Spring Night
You and your starry bling, you and your mole sleek polymorphous spooning with flat
space and curvy earth.
You and your posse of snuffling moonstruck skunks. Allow me to restate the problem: you
and your jasmined air.
You and your chilly buds. You and your blue TV windows. You and your dauntless
weaving spiders.
There's you and your possum paw prints, you and your mushrooms. You and your
AM radio bounce no one listens to anymore.
Let's not forget you and your streetlights faking dawn. Let me remind you Mr. Big Shot.
You're just a temp.
