Donkey Lovin’

for Lyons

pitched eyes texted in blond perfect
vision of a shifted southern driver made
an ass of me on one evening of wet dreams
at the stroke of seven lucky waitresses
who garnish the wine goblets of heroes
here i am beside the fence and a sand pit
for a-ha revelations of brazilian records
out of compass that sidles up to our character
in tremors of never circling crowds
runs in the climbing youth who wants
in to green comparisons of west commences
hits on the memory that this business lies
in the laughter that surprises our honesty
translated blessings under this rehearsal