reading plath at home, wisconsin

everything is gorgeous 
and all the women are gaunt 

and graying

plucking rampant daises

before me, he fingers

guitar strings, we recall all the music

we're not making

several weeks of amnesiac dreaming

come to pass

im roused awake 

by burning cara-cara

i delight in sorrows

ancient and unnamed

i delight in unmaking 

myself

in another room, 

a day or two 

ago

we agree, queerness

is a constant becoming

an eternal arrival

there is no finished product

thumbing the crown,

all the juices pour out

a cataclysm for peppered snow