"Now Accepting Applications" by Jeff Phallacy

Not seducing us, the sunlight

ratchets here

across our simple dinners,

complaining

not this age is wicked,

for it is wretched, and

though

at first

the accidental recipe

of orange-soda chicken and couscous

vibed to

the buds

in a spiced and novel sympathy,

much like the compassion of thin lace, thin silk;

Not seducing us, these cannot save us.

Let us walk

down the lime-tree lane

and put our hands

behind each other’s ears

with our knuckles

pressing

these necks for warmth and curl

under the lime-tree

whose three

tap-roots

are the aqueducts

for this

our entire world,

and laying

our bent knees in lazy triangles

naked

above each other’s faces

upturned

pull down the scented flowers

and scatter them

like sliced cucumbers

or Charon-coins

above our heavier

heavying eyes,

for we are always friends, though

in the distance

across the planes of scarecrow creosote

and mountains like shattered

fenceposts

around this our valley

our meanings have flashed like heatlightning

reluming only two salamanders in the burning oasis

whose eyes are ruby-blue

just like yours

when your heart, not broken,

feels nothing at all.