Stop Crying by Donald Revell

The useless heaven
By whose means, like lettuce
And the pleasures of handwriting,
Paradise over there
In the yard with the bad dogs
Opens a bottle of flowers.
Nobody’s there.
I mean useless as a table prepared
For babies.

One by one,
A Benjamin, an Ambrose etc
Try the patience of the dogs,
Tear at the flowers.

Every house in this town has the same white curtains.
Christ pushes one aside.
Look, Ambrose. See the lonely green stems.

by Donald Revell
first published by Slope

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