Candyland

                 The doors swung open—

Inside, not a thing

                                    but the curling
                                                                        of toes,

a ring flossed from ragweed.

                                                Molar pulse and molecular sing.

Sun tips

                                    blades of green with wet.

Sweet stationary

licked and placed on my lap.

                        Rolling—                                                          dice, flax,

                                                            raking green,

dissecting                                                                  thought-mice,

sucking on the milk

of a bad fantasy.

                                                                                    Too long have tried

            to fake my way into a new syntax.

                        Share the way out of the peppermint forest.

                                                                                                            Into your—

            hurriedly-swung doors.

Now-far-behind,

            a field holds                                                

 up under                                                        distant scrutiny.                             

Laden
                                      with accumulated song-stuff.

Vixen       -        oxen.                                      

Sweat          -           psalm,
                                                   etc.

          Indecipherably sweet.

                                                            Out the frame,
                                                                                                an orange-clad

            electrical warrior

                                                            disappears down a wire-vined hole.

                                    Past that,

                        a tan-stunned woman

                                                gets pulled over

                                                                                    by blinking red-
           

            n-blue.                                                 In apparent hurry

                                    she waves

                                                            her papers,                            sun-

                                                light halving
                                                                                    her eyes.

                        Her skin, white.

                                                The cop waits in his car,

                                                                        playing Bejeweled.