Hooch Dupree, Reverend Horton Have No Ghosts

a square is always missing its fifth side,
wheels run on sentences,
… … she’s 10 years in an 8-arm hug

hello you blade of a woman. hello—

we gasp like gulls, like bleating bottles

the missing piece
… … of an unfinished New Yorker puzzle,

Mr. Fred Florida Grasshopper
went missing on the fifth of June
… … over 10 years ago, and we began abbreviating
ourselves to g’s and h’s and m’s

the light is on fire, skawking through the midnight
skies, where

they have no ghosts, Mr. Dupree
… … and the Reverend Horton Heath

the ceiling fan a single star

its stamen crown abreast the bow
hello flagship. hello—

when we were two did we fight?
weren’t we just two monosyllables?

in the picture on the box, the states are underwater;
go to the source,
… … but #182 is late

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