Crystal-Clear Balloons

Wings darting to and fro,
Ballast to the mother’s oysters,
Listening from the crystal-clear balloon
High above the earth’s blue field of air.

Families size up the plots,
Build their testaments to length,
Slip the knot of grease into waiting arms
The size of candy and the
Shape of hope.

We drag around the seafood from another place
To sell in our front-yards
And people buy,
People buy;
Well, one has to eat.
Right?
Argue that.

Pistols show up next, weapons of
Proximity.
Fates are done up in ribbons or
Layed out on the cool ground like
Flags.
Cloth is also used to bury.

We take these aims highly, as in sleep,
And cover like no other in the yard.
Our houses stand as long
As we can see them,
And we mortgage snowflakes from out
The Easter-sky
To all
And only
Ourselves.