Forget Me

all trees are oaks

all birds are blue

in the mountains of a magnet

are the mountains of you

i'm proud of my genius just like a painter

and dumb like a poet i think

i can just say it from the throats of our wrists

with full sets of teeth

vanilla almond teeth

from vanilla almond tea spent afternoons measuring time in spoons

a southern run for a late longing to drink

what's 80 miles in canada or 18 years in the mountains

where all trees are oaks and all birds are blue, ach' du

i thought everyone was you

where forget-me-nots and marigolds and other things

that don't get old

don't get old between one june and september

you're all i remember

but i'm a lantern, my head a moon

i married a room where i'll at least keep my hands in order

and what about the air, lying awake.