Imagine Your Bride Was Flown in by Helicopter

​Imagine your bride was flown in by helicopter,
You were curious to see what she looked like, you ignored
The bridesmaids, and the first thing she said to you,
Was, “Do you like pizza?” You felt a discord,

You felt the whole world was merely a symbol
And the symbol itself was a world, and that world
Was paralleling your world, and everything collapsed
And you found yourself in bed, your legs curled

Around a cat, and there were coins
On your bookshelf, and a dawn across an entire
Sky. And you trod across the porch,
The shadow of your head on the briar.

The limestone cladding is impacted with pink,
With glints of blue, with squiggles of red,
It is a trace of a memory of a bakery
And the yearning raised by the scent of cornbread.

It is only because I see that I am larger than I am
That I am talking to you this way, there are storms
And the white wood exposed from beneath
The bark, the snails leave shining forms,

The air is filled with petrichor,
Is it music or words or light or scent
That create the entire world? I would bet
That it is a hard-to-find unguent