When it gets green like this in all honesty I hardly know
what to do with myself.
I’ll wander to the 88 bus stop
like a drunkard
scattering footprints like rose petals, running my fingers
along your chainlink fence.
I am envisioning diving into your perennials.
I am laying face-down in your lawn.
I’d like to throw
into the divine leafy bosom of your shrubbery
and go “tthhhppppptttth!”