Today I’ll Decorate the World

Day’s audible relief an avalanche
of vowels here at the impurity ball
of the possible futures. I walk my fingers
down the lazy spine of the future.
Things are hard like silicone and we
have been wanting to live like
exploding dorky lilies because
our brains are upside down
and also exploding. Spires point
to the giddy sky we’re hurtling though;
delicate badgers fling offal
at the singed oligarchy: tweet!
Tweet! Words roll out like votes
in the exhausting human universe,
while in the non-human universe
fungi, asteroids, rabbits, prions,
rings, and capybara just sweat
it out. Everything – the subway,
the body, the country, the globe,
the galaxy – is a sweat lodge where
we detoxify and what leaves us
commingles in the sweaty air.
Change has come to America
like a buttercup in 72 point type.
Today I’ll decorate the world
with stupid sleepy rosettes
and fall in love with almost
everybody. I’ve earned the
right to do that like wild dolls
earn their right to speak.
Lulled by the leafy, steamy frizz,
the citizens walk, stunned
and reflective, through
a ghoulish crowd of perfect tenses,
(have experienced, had suffered,
will have decided)
balloons streaming,
unconstrained,
from their upraised fingertips.