Jay Smith

fourth poem for gabi

& in between the
self & the lush
life:

the milky secretions
vulcanize as language, the shingles
are slipping down &
coated in this
white stickiness for

rebounding words. i fall back onto a
bed of false unicorn.      used tradition-
ally to prevent miscarriage.        not
actually native to alberta. but i

believe in false unicorns. &

belief means
a
lot.

& in the end, i am not
lounging in the pastoral
bouquet. i am not waiting for
the effect to be felt, deep in the

inside glove of
life, in the absence of full
nectaries. i bounce        back.

ah, the beautiful repercussions of
my florid life.