Tim Davis

'Love Poem Frames per Second'

For Lisa

A reenactment staged in Billie Holliday pronouncing "tin" and
buttered corn markered onto leader. Earth's elevators
warehouse truth because of one big union;
one balloon barbell lifter sure of coloration
holds the silver bird for giltessential damsel.
A goat calls out a floor. "I eat
high gloss sunbursts" is what its lashes pant.
The Brancusi in the lobby ringed with filthy clippings.
Through triple digital bilges the bulb still melts the film.

I could hold you till our armpits go medieval;
space collapsing into unperusable seapurse Utrecht rooftop blue;
ningnongs noshing glitter crayons on the bitty footbridge over Wilderness.
Eveywhere seers sue each other.
The solar haze received a summons too.
Are you someone who announces "I am someone who..."?
I went for the party mix of
accented cross purposes.
You were blearier with the button lit.