yore not listening

cameras sop insistent orbs
gathering bones inside me
hopscotch one maker to the next
I could have used a valentine
but that's beside the point
the point is dogs have vests inside their trousers
the door is open and the spleens have come in
it's not good to be unaware
your not listening
the trout have five children each morning
the eaves give out each night
snowboards sail in kitchen kettles
walking space boards in spackling time
your not listening
it's not good to be unaware
the tonics are out hooting again
give them a spare tire and they'll keep quiet
a blistered bum keeps the towels wise
preaching in canned worms till the trout go sprouting
birds undersea split peas to find ham worthy
your not listening
how many times must I tell you
listen to the practicality of my words
the bills, holidays, present finding,
extra extra do all about it
pine my pores with extra lunch boxes
feeling lucky in pressboard stilts
the long jump bowed out for a gin and chronic
rabbits feed their crows to tame the swallows
ostrich your imagination. give them toes.
your tables are empty, your parties are slow
you must do and give, do and give
you
are
not
doing
enough
ask the shadows
they do more than all of us combined
the eaters and the pinwheels sigh
they too want to be wise

denis streeter 11/27/17