University Art Museum Berkeley
I enter the bathroom stall
of the museum

leave the door open
paint a Jackson Pollack

drip color everywhere
a work of art

in white porcelain
until gold flecks splinter sky

the energy of one man
bursting into dendrites

no one sees me pee
and I am a forest

Dressed as a Wedding Guest
Riding on a bus, dressed in a black suit
with the dust of his travels
making a path across his buttoned jacket,
hair neatly trimmed into a gable
that points to a nose
that speaks nothing to his mouth,
but then,
a nose is for smelling danger.

The wedding guest feels
for a loose cord braided
beneath his jacket,
a loose cord that leads back
to where he came from,
a loose cord that is simple,
unlike his life that has no words,
so he waits

to deliver his gift
to the assembled party
riding with him on the bus,
heads pressed to glass,
when the man who is dressed
as a wedding guest,
pulls the cord,
and marries them all to the same thing.