it’s april
we all hop in a van after ingesting too much marijuana to see straight
little cartoon rabbits keep hopping from the vegetation grinning blankly
and we all know their only purpose was ever to die
max calls up his ex-girlfriend and shouts at her
i know that chick her body is like an elongated diamond
i bet mark still wants to be pinned under her and the delicious hair of her crotch
and when he shouts he’s shouting at mark-who-is-dreaming of her pearl-and-anise tongue
i can’t see the lintels of the van through too much smoke
it’s april the magnolias put out their tongues like calves
ryan says each one is penance for each individual hailstone
that dented our heads and our shingles all winter
i myself am preoccupied with the fact that he just licked my knee
and with the poem i’m writing about these shocking experiences
the clouds pulsing round the low sun like a vulva
the narrow road dented by the flat brush of dusk
the miles disappearing themselves from yellow line to yellow line
the several hairs on ryan’s lip that i stare at half the way to daytona
like the feathers on an ibis like the corrugations on a cowrie shell
fuck anyone who tells me this is medicinal
i am going to daytona
i am going to hell in a puce van full of lucid uncertainty