And isn’t it always like this, always June,
the girl in the sundress with the stress
fracture smile and now even the moon
gone heavy. The bones in her mouth obsess
her, how all the rivers now snake
toward the guttering light, the moot
of trees in a landscape like this, all cake
and pink rosettes. All sweet and a beaut
of a life if you can get it: this Garbo
silver sheen waxing the back of play-
house shadows, languorous, given to hobo-
chic and heliotropes. The frenetic day
split in half. Her voice, all cutglass and rhinestone.
And fear, of course, the loveliest of cologne.
(end rhymes: June, stress, moon, obsess, snake, moot, cake, beaut, Garbo, play, hobo, day, rhinestone, cologne)