Why pink asks blue when
roused whose wheeze
where past just falls
fails new any to augur
When rash throws think
unfolds, unwraps, uncoils
relax what jeers
who held and
Wooden Clappers
Don’t let go of drop
though darkness rooms
and voices blink three
coins in a phone booth
At gas stop stuffed
outside Gilroy near
garlic beer and clown
juggling artichokes
Carriage trails from Castroville.
The Coming of the Toads 