God Folds Up

an ocean and places it neatly on His tongue     it opens first like an accordion   then bursts back into its old ocean self             X and I scramble onto   our   boat   made   of plywood     and    milk     jugs

floating   and hungry   and pillow-less  we become severe to one another       X speaks in capital letters       I protect my jawbone     with a second jawbone     look     I tell him we will     get back     to sod whether by waltz or by wreck and     he believes me   and it’s true because he believes me     it’s simple     the rug pulled out from under us was clean        shameless         blue