THE TASTE OF DAL

I think I’ll kill the summer day by day 
I’ll drag my feet through milk-drowned flowers 
And write poetry with their damp excess on the floor
Twirling my toes on kitchen tile
Swish
Swish 
Swish 
I’ve been making an armory in the broomcloset
I’ve been making propellants in the pantry 
I will cover my bedroom with blue drawings 
Of every entry 
Exit way 
And window 
Of heaven 
And then I will invade the angels.

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