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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
my face
into the divine leafy bosom of your shrubbery

and go “tthhhppppptttth!”