Never wise to imprisoned flowers

Shortening limbic equators like slighted tossing belts
unto the aerosol predilections strengthened by chided proposals
never again into the weaving nest of hornets displayed on billboards
here and around a motel frequency that dots across county lines

there is something left for her here, in this partitioned memory
sticking out among the foraged rosemary leaves and bottled up time
like pestering ropes of grapes that leashes could not bear
but along the saddles and rose harmonies there arose figures left to mention

Stoss-and-lee fathers on the buredely metric frequent stalls of pearl horses
stationed on counting tassel ducks to peel off the wedding porch
there was one less of mine own to aid in the proper acquiescence
never lifting a finger to the cord of malaise and imprisoned flowers

sought solely within their own petitioned grace to relieve themselves
with that goal in mind, forgetting who it was they were to care for
forgetting who it was they were to consider in so many moments
though not asking much, they will leave their muddy ocean juice for friends

turns out their anxiety translated and overcome does not leave gold behind
no, we are better off without them, singing in the gallery like impatient fortunes
to this once was the day that porters of the mind grafted unto our silver coats
flagging down our spiritual assailant where fields of victory did not savor