it's      time      to     disobey     the
ordinance   of   fog.  time   to  not
answer   the   phone,   to   unbum
that last cigarette.  it’s  high  time
America opens its  windows  and
lays  off  ice.  it’s  time  to  build a
boat     and     row     home.      to
remember an  inviolate someone.
a domestic ass.  the  arthritic  fig.
a  ribbed  bowl with slippery guts
of sea  bass.  it’s time to  unspool.
to undust the  South  and  unmist
the  river.  it  is  time  to  unbloom.
to   unpetal  the  story:  one  gets
lost  for  a  petal.  a ring  is put on
it   before   the   end  of   another.
then  talk   of   promise   for   two
wild waxy petals. petals later, the
fog lifts. one  finds  the  way   out.
the   other   is   left   praising   the
distance—