Champagne

cold
and surprising
a mouthful
of golden bees

they own me
without purchase

past my one diamond eye
they stream:
backlit baby pearls
on a kamikaze mission

at the surface
they rush to the sides:
it is easier
to die
on the edge

my swallow weeps
down the inside
of the glass
 

        This poem appeared in the collection My Career as a Pendulum

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