Root Fragments of Salvage Parts

There is a zebra in my bathtub, speaking,
“Some constructs are louder than pearls.”
but there is a zebra in my bathtub.

There is a frontosa cichlid in my bathtub,
speaking, “Just how loud do constructs get?”
Meanwhile the zebra digs a hole under my house.

There are already many holes in my front yard
from where I tried to offer roses to China,
but she refused me at every turn, leaving a mess.

However, I do now have enough roots for soup,
maybe even tea. I am going to fill the holes
in the yard with books and submit a FOIA
request to my soul, I can’t help but feel
like some fragments and songs are missing.

Songs kissing under the branches of buried
beaches like long, feathered bow ties that
stretch across my neck where the wolves
gather – like at their staple foods restaurant,
lapping up the tainted fluids of my salvage parts.