It’s raining now but it ain’t raining in my heart.
My heart owns a unicycle.
My heart, that puffed up tropical bird…
Yes, there are these steep mathematics of aerial longing…
Butter your bread child.
Half a cloud, a quarter of a cloud, then sunlight above the fountain
Where the mermaid statue
Shows off her sparkling breasts…
What? No mermaid bosoms in Iowa City?
Check mate Mr. Duchamp, caught you looking!