laws of attraction
the day you stole that harmonica
was the first day of the rest of my life
I wish
I could understand the colours you blow
that wave on the frequency of night-lilies
collating what they dredge
sweetening the philistine edges
of your dimly lit ornamental music
I expect the frogs will be at it for some time
winking like ellipses in brilliant prose
arguing an eloquent case
for misplacing adjectives knowingly sequentially
smudging the corners of our real riverside sheets
—Nathan Thompson