1
Let my flesh become
nitrogen-rich soil
to feed miniature oaks,
yes, and lips of lilacs and lilies
and whole quadriceps
of lavender, nipples
of honeysuckle, elbows
of dry mesquite, throat of
roses, palms of holly.

2
I will sing a song through
the thorns on my tongue
and grackles will come,
flutters of shadow and spark.
In my mouth, they will nest,
fuck briefly, and multiply.
My voice will be of multitudes.

3
Put the river around my ankles,
the stars along my hips,
the sun against my back.
I want to serve only
the things that matter.