When the Audience Tired, Little Richard Would Scold, “The Beauty is Still on Duty”

The manila sun 
       is warming
    it and warming it common
     over into spring

               seen
          with your
thighs. Acorn green—
a tropical frog with dour

wool soviet cap. Everything
    (we’re not told it)
          keeps going.
Order and accident mold it.

Myrtles in the dog park
   are shades at our
right hand, stock
     images, lore,

a very present help
    in trouble.  The 60’s
tour bus—unshelfed
    relic—blows past a mixte

      like a hurtled
chrome diner
       and cleaves the myrtle
overhang. Decomissioned silver-liner?

Elegantly half-dressed neighbors
           come off their
porches, shoulders
    by their ears,

arms crossed
    high on their chests.
          Some missed
it, but ask the rest

if they saw (though
    in the passability
neighbors use), and laugh
at its impossibility.

This is how light religion 
        can be! After 
the Ascension,
   who took roster

       first to break
the silence
     left to chic
             and useful science?
    
Danny, who will live
       with dad
       now that mom is
                dead?


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