he is all there.
he believes he was melted carefully down for you, cast up from your childhood,
cast up from your one hundred favoured thoughts.
he has always been there his darling, far from exquisite
rain on a summer's day, as real as a cast-iron skillet
others have been momentary, luxuriant, bright red speedboats in the harbor. lobster and clams, out of season.
I am more than that,  your have to have
home grown in the tropics, new growth
this is not some experiment, it can be just harmony.
oars for rowlocks, a bung for a leaky rowboat
wild flowers on the table at breakfast-time