Love is a dandelion.

Where are the forms;
with their seamless figures
that once danced masterfully
inside of my closed eyes?

That child has been hardened,
speaking through The Tyger’s voice.
Notice the fearful symmetry.
Exit lamb; this land is not its home.

I came across my neighbor
who made me feel at home
among the cathode
rays and microwaves.

I drink from his cup of tea;
he offers me his chair.
“Relax,” he says. “Try on these shoes.
They’re much more comfortable
than those old things.”
Incremental disturbances and
it was there that I disappeared,
comfortable in his shoes.