I go round and round your round you’re rounds on round
A soft planet to be plant in
Beyond deserving is the sliding along gravel of laughter
I inhale
A planet, and our pale skin people have come around
To see, after blindness, once again:
A planet is to depend and attend to
The dark earth under your eyes
Is shoreline mud to sink digitigrade landings in
Your hunger mine to feed
Your back mine to scratch is yours,
A rudimentary language
Unlike your fine articulations in limbs and fingers
Inscrutable signs telling me
Yours a mind to mine

There are many here among us
Who feel that life is but a joke.
You are a life,
And I twine around its exclusivity
Dirty, strange, and whole-some
My confusion of alternating
coffee breath and brushed mint,
Cool skin and self-scooping cat box smells
And Aarnold Schwarzenegger surfing on
Its automated trawler
To the shared tune of a Crane,
A pug’s aspirations dragged along in gurgles 
And screams, peals
Like the shackles of a bra unsnapped,
Like a trou unbuckled is a release
And a shiver
Like you look at an animal and love

You’re a good joke;
You’re such a good joke!
Such a generous absurdity,
We and this world,
Weighted bidirectionally 
As masses meeting
And as purposes, the ley lines
Shooting straight uncertainties around 
Pliant, resistant circumferences