Forget Me

All trees are oaks

All birds are blue

In the mountains of a magnet

Are the mountains of you

I'm proud of my genius just like a painter

And dumb like a poet I think

I can just say it from the throats of our wrists

With full sets of teeth

Vanilla almond teeth

From vanilla almond tea spent afternoons measuring time in spoons

A southern run for a late longing to drink

What's 80 miles in canada or 18 years in the mountains

Where all trees are oaks and all birds are blue, ach' do

I thought everyone was you

Where forget-me-nots and marigolds and other things

That don't get old

Don't get old between one June and September

You're all I remember

But I'm a lantern, my head a moon

I married a room where I'll at least keep my hands in order

And what about the air, lying awake.