Radical empiricist blues

oh baby you aren’t here so you can’t be alive

my high five of laundering attachment

car driving to the aeroport you remember

you and me and soldiers – now it’s women

upon the globe her farm her waters her city

they aren’t here so they can’t be alive

palpable as screens across this citizen décor

it isn’t the clothes, my dear, not even in France

where they mistook the spring that is here

so it must be true, the hands mapped with freakish

assertions of warmth concretely felt

and heavy on the envelopes I glue & send

to a terribly nice version of you