salad for queens and the street

lattice work crowds out the next spring
fabulous green blue ascendancy, and rings
aghast a gnash of teeth into algae
stopped in February
pouring over the dam of
my mind meandering
sauntering and asking
each passer by to support
me and my lineage- man so holy
i don't know the words but even
choking on immigrant salt
and citizens patriot launches of
perfection i hear the splintering
twig, the crow wing the midnight
of matrimony sing
and lend to me all the dream
and dreary
lengths of humanity, here on old falls,
and the sound
of the parkway drowning i hear gulls
long gone in winters field speak
echoes of white and pure being,
almost
as silently as distant redwood trees