He is an old old baby sewn into a bell
and is happy
considering he has all the flexibility
of a toaster

of a jewelry box crossing the room
in a rowboat in the dark

past the cats up
on the counter
licking the left out butter

unsure of his age and of the effectiveness
of teeth and words, how a euphemism
is extracted instead
of pulled,

the need for paler ways of saying
carapace.

He will disappear into the world
for months
at a time and come back
full of singing lessons
and escargot

and if you find he isn't
as eager as usual
to be cuddled upon his return
it's only because

he hopes you won't discover
the small satchel of Manchurian
oolong

he has smuggled inside the parentheses
which are holding in
his love handles.

how to be a funambulist even if grace is not the name on your birth certificate

1. tie one end of a rope to the outer regions of an inner country you have chosen by closing your eyes and pointing at the world.

2. tie the other end of the rope to the inner regions of the next country over.

3. purchase sequins and remnant laces from the olga factory at great savings to sew into your costume.

4. write small boat names on slips of paper and slip equal numbers of them into each of your pockets to balance with.

5. get a job exporting cleopatra wigs from the first country to the second.

6. get a job importing peggy sue wigs from the second country to the first.

7. import and export wigs on a tightrope over a clear and widening horizon of eyes fixed on you from inner region to outer region at all times.

8. if the constant movement of the world, world full of splendid carp, elephants parading around the aquacade, ghosts of grandmothers passing through banging screen doors, curious areas being circled on mammograms, guidelines to follow according to believers in different christs, hair strewn in gardens to scare away deer, heavy black telephones entangled and ringing, if this endless commotion hides you from yourself like the moon in its invisible phases, and the origin of your awkwardness stays hidden under the elaborate movements you've constructed to hide your awkwardness when you go out in it, then when you finally do notice that the cleopatra wig and the peggy sue wig are the same wig, the sudden perfect equilibrium it provides you with will more than likely knock you off your tightrope.

9. try not to think of yourself falling so much as escaping down a banister out of horizontal prison.

10. for the rest of your short, happy, vertical life you will not be concealed from the parts of yourself which normally conceal themselves savagely. the movement from teaching violin to distorting mirrors to spilling like a box of envelopes is a wide one, like panoramic film tries to capture, quick, what's the scent that goes with wading birds in Chinese cities, what's the right word for when they break bones to fix them.

11. close your eyes and flap your arms. even without looking you will know they resemble bright day of the dead decorations.

things you can buy here with your dollar

a blue squeeze purse
or a squirt gun necklace
a rubber stretch dog
or jesus loves you shoelaces
big rubber erasers
or a jesus loves you kickball
or a jesus loves you whistle
or a jesus loves you kaleidoscope
a polyester lei
or a tissue paper pineapple
or ten commandment pencils
or a twin pack of plastic third eyes

While You Were in Florida

Visiting your sister in Massachusetts
the entire city here was under a vast
construction, under a loudness you
could only read about on the moon.
Such an endless shuddering of spools
and odometers, the post office all in traction,
jackhammers in the elementary schools,
wrecking balls pointing out the time
of day with their shadows.

While you were in Florida
I sat in a dentist's chair with a broken molar
studying the map of the North Atlantic
on the ceiling.
Kong Frederick VIII Land,
Kong Christian Land, Spitsburgen
Norway, The Labrador Sea.

It's disconcerting, the sensation
of eating gravel, of coming apart,
of you being irreplaceable and me
having no knowledge of your
whereabouts, though I receive
one mysterious postcard after
another stamped with a Massachusetts
postmark.

The sea named after a breed of dog
made me remember you were in a place
beginning with K or two lower case
lls. Now I remember.
You were visiting your sister
who is now a mother, not your mother
who is like a sister.

I read in a sewing book that embellishing
over one's errors can sometimes result
in an even more beautiful garment,
though that book is overdue now, and my lending
privileges have been all but revoked.