What Kind Of Day Is It Anyway?

It has all gone to heart.
Where are your pretty Egyptial fish legs?
My bones have been swiftly watching you
& hey
we have a nice well-kept lawn
in the summer.
But what happens when our sundry days
become silly
& I am too shy to call
my face pretty
or civil
or even likeable.
I have viewed you close to God,
my good man,
but you aren't supposed to be there
you are only
part of a cool, icy dream
that turns hot yellow
& forgives distance
& rules lucky stones