for my boat lily
I heard you talk about me in unfocused molecular action
that treats the desert of the real as a furnishing
catalogued perfectly at arm’s reach away
and I can’t say I’m surprised.
Here in the science of our time together,
do you phase me, century friend,
or is my look so characteristically Roman?
Do I conquer?
I’d glean the caverns in the earthworm itself
to never send you home from the party
so long as you say something unfathomably else
and don’t give up on the bottom.

John Nyman