George Washington says Twelve bladed shadows, if edge
means entrance staying secret seems
a lip unlilac, swarmed to in return, its skin yes an imitation
of another imitation, rooster up your sword you washed

out wristwatch game impersonator, I said stamp
out that Nintendoed for food, you leaf,
you wax-dipped internet of swans-at-night. And

so on. The afternoon proceeds in turn,
the crowd dispersing slowly with its strings unharmed
and not offended more than justifiably. The insects
tune their knees and sing Oh Dorothy, with

your gift translucent, clotheslined and on television,
even languages encountered here are snow we justify our visits
by and for and to. We are tourists merely in your droves.