Rosehips are an eventuality
it was impossible to put back
not by that route
by an imaginationquietly I was there
I was tending the bushes
quietly I said it was like a lion-escape
and there were briars inside her bra
and it was hooked in front
and so I quietly
quietly and without waiting for answers because that is no way to catch a lion
I began to whip it
the whip was unbelievably sad though
not wanting a chair it became impossible to see anything
not wanting to scream I shut my eyes
the lion went into the closet
I followed
not wanting a fable what choice did either of us have
I see it now so clearly
there is a recess in the mind
a recess like an imagination but not so quietly
inside of the recess there is a cage for the lions
the lions roar inside of this cage
and the extra digits that one sheds fill up a box
a box that smells faintly of rosehips
but that was some time ago
it was right next to this one