All trees are oaks,

All birds are blue.

In the mountains of a magnet,

Are the mountains of you

I'm proud of my genius, just like a painter

And dumb like a poet I think

I can just say it from the throats of our wrists,

With full sets of teeth,

Vanilla almond teeth.

From vanilla almond tea spent afternoons measuring time in spoons

A southern run for a late longing to drink.



What's 80 miles in Canada or 18 years in the mountains?

Where all trees are oaks and all birds are blue, ach' du

I thought everyone was you.

Where forget-me-nots and marigolds and other things

That don't get old

Don't get old between one june and september

You're all I remember

But I'm a lantern, my head a moon.

I married a room where I'll at least keep my hands in order,

And what about the air, lying awake.