Doo wop in opposition to the sister dying of impersonation or your sister remarking how intelligent seeds can become
or three men harmonizing in powder blue with the white ruffles and the mule variations peeking through sober auditoriums
and the two black maids in the backseat of a DC taxi teasing how we dream too much to the sudden editor of their sorrows a risk even the candor is nervous
even the man I love puckers into double dutch like a motor or my otherness exposes a tormented radio that no longer believes in suffering and just like that you see a crown in the servant's attic and appropriate that grief as mastery
