Eating The Future

My kids are in the tuba.
Who cares?
Why stop humming
and blowing into you
like a fire?

Let's talk for two
years about Tomaz
Salamun, about

how he constructed
a devil's food cake
from a burned-out sparkler
and top hat.

God is good.
And so are you.
And so am I.
And Tomaz too.

We four, so far afield.
We're crying for crackers
to get back.

Come home, round corner.
Mystery Word's stuck.

It looks like a bard
but it's close to a bird.

It sounds like a wish
but it may be a war.

It feels like a fly
but it ate the Future.

Don't let it out, snowflake.