by Sarah Manguso
I’m tired of looking at this blonde’s well-formed ass
but she sure can weed a garden.
Does she know I dream about her white eyelashes?
Does she know all ambition has the same source?
The gray bird describes a shape,
the deer bounces up a hill,
many animals walk on the earth and silence me.
Thanks, big-ass blonde.
Weed away! Let the light burn you,
the sun distract you from the blazing world!
For death is coming! And love will be new!