• There is within my happenstance
    An unshed innocence,
    Not rare among those buttercups
    Whose sun is fueled by shame.

    No matter what the circumstance,
    My heart must hie me hence,
    For all the quince of Nottingham
    Is squandered in my name.

    Extant there are no photographs
    Of who or what I am,
    For they were in the sandwiches
    We ate one moonlit night.

    Instead my mirror must reveal
    The marmaladed ham
    That lies atop the tabletop
    And stuffs itself with light.

    Ay me! What might I do that might
    Undo my unfelt pain?
    My life must gorge on life, and yet
    I sorrow for my mice.

    Ay me! The cherubs hunger as
    My goods are shipped by plane.
    And I must dance with polar bears
    Across the shrinking ice.