On the Occasion of a Friend Falling off the Wagon
Canadian geese crossing the street
are ready to die for their country.
Why not you? Are you too good?
Do you bloom perennial?
Or once then never again?
The soil is soaked thru with malt liquor.
Something smells sweet in the greedy weeds.
Our reparations are pending and hang
like a branch of rotten fruit.
It's pythons in Florida that will redeem us.
The kudzu is busy at our retribution.
The nightcrawlers are out in the morning
and they're embarrassed, and you're ashamed,
as we lie our alumni to ripen,
to dare reckon of underground trees.