Paper wasps and birds

another sudoku poem




brass wasps madden my space, each one flips
it gold ringed map about to make its crispy paper

a purple bird hurtles through new camps of the absurd
raspy breezes sound like papers clacking like shackles

it's safer to see the pulp bared in supple shadows
made by moons or brass lamps, avoid the gasps

I flop down and clasp my shadow, a bird limps
and chirps, drags cool white paper that bears the image

or glimpse of brass men shaded by paper and loss
they flop down bored and ride turtles, poor birds

above vapor into moons breaking up over hot meadows
whose bugs whisper about clamps to bind the moon

later so it can pour its supple cusp into heaps
they've heard the bad or swollen speak, popped

mostly words that flop about pasted down to moody
shadow people, glints of brass better cleansed

if the purple bird brings in its mouth another flapping
bird that's made of hissing paper bones and heat.