To erect a greenhouse on a perennial farm:
1, 2, 3 group push of metal arches up to
heirloom sun dipping underneath each metal line
along the other side rays peppering the eye
we mourn spring
eternal cycle: fingertips sweat along hot metal
each ladder step a tinny hymn, echoing edict
of screw gun whirls, raise each arch with shadow of elbow
there is a hanging fern blowing in summer storm wind,
slight creaking from metal hooks rusting at curved heads
I witness my breath take it
Laddertop-fields of hibiscus pots, purple sage, mountain
pinks growing yellow and split straddle each aisle
between the legs
vibernum and narcissi shimmer obsidian
slight blueberry hunger on the tongue
a vision: the Adriatic Lily larger than man
burgundy with blushed triangles of blue
it is the ocean on my skin
when did I become the moon in an orrery?
circling & circling, earth below me then
away, dodging sun
the drill misses bit hole blinding glint of shining metal
dotted with the drip of my forehead
laugh of a child phantom ovum splitting
enflamed leap, I witness the earth catch me.
Antonio’s hands holding
the lower dome
of my skull, a glass bowl
pulsing head, knock
of heartbeat. faces circle
and block tub of sky,
a sun rooting.
a drink of water.
a diadem of bandana.
my body as small storage,
my skin as no vacancy.
what does the land think of me?
no sound, the fields of cover crop
overtaken by cinquefoil, gifts of rain
farm oracle: I can build neither
a house of metal nor a human.