The leopards of the moon-
the old, green ones-
had all but cut out
when the van arrived with Rain and Clover-
those summations of quiet ; smiling,
patchulied, vaguely psychotic.
There was magic all over-
just not there,
and the things we put in our heads
would forever linger
like ancestral nightmares-
I put my hand on a Douglas Fir
and an angel appeared.
She was holding up a glass
of radiant lemonade
and when I drank it
she turned thirty eight
and divorced me.
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