Düsseldorf Is For Sisters
One is Scheherazade but they both wear overcoats.
One traces sun’s rectangle on the floor but they
both wear overcoats. Are you my sister from Mom’s
uterus? Are you using a fork in that way? Why does
one flower in our arrangement look so eaten?
I’m sailing to you. I’m sailing to you on white sails.
On white cells. I’ve recently counted my white cells.
One is a stirrup, but they both ride in saddles.
One has puffy lips, but they both ride in saddles.
I like names like Angela, Angelica, and Stanley.
I like Beuford, Blaine, and Tammy. Düsseldorf really
is for sisters. Please Bring in the rhinestones,
the leather purses. Bring on the hair pins
and lacquered horses. One wears a metal band,
but they both have pink gums. One doesn’t mind
that much, but they both have pink gums.
Pink and Hot Pink Habitat
They shoot up, the stalks with globular color
with stiff tissue layers poking the air.
You arrange them in water, but do they need water.
The answer is yes. They are alive.
When knocking a vase over, backhand it,
send the globs flying. When visiting college,
you learn that glass is liquid and sloping down.
Backhand your college choices. Arrange an arrangement,
fit into a hounds-tooth jacket. Get a small pipe,
a dried mushroom, and an antique locket.
When people come over, show off you closet.
Your ancient corsets and slovenly coats.