From El Salvador to parlay French lyricists

rocky suns block the courtroom scene where
shreddings of salted gas gliders scoop down
holding hands with Haley and back news
holding golden cobwebs to lengthen the gentle sea

riding along the weaving sight deals under orders
like freight train silk skittish in El Salvador
multimillion snakes enlarge what’s gone
like inserting yourself to the knocking docked poem

iceberg trash cans light proprietor songs along
to a melted highway crossing the train mortar psalms
she held me like marmalade toasted ironed shirts
skirted with a marlin there to demonetize three songs

ironed pantries that apologize for storing groceries
in the stolen goods freezer like solitary music
drowning on the Great Plains with Mahler
under-rested like deserted grains on the straight miles

dawning on the resting state, people gather like fireflies
debriefing the tonal riverbed stone’s tune
here and grateful to be listening to the porter
on 1300 Metropolitan Avenue looking in your eyes
sailor companions, compatriots donning singing voices
for transnational flights to parlay French lyricists