High Life

Lost lost in a blue bowl the sun sticks to its clueless path

Thousands of feet below dumb monster flowers suck light from heaven ignore the sun to track the thin plume of a northbound jet

Heaven is at the Vanderbilts Morning sends Mommy to New York the house leans lunchward Unable to miss her plane she will hear all about it when she gets back

She will tell all about it when she gets back: the gowns, the food, the conversation the amazing people

In an exquisite bedroom a doll gets an afternoon chiding You are neither pretty, interesting, clever nor agreeable enough You need new clothes

Through the windows yellow light and long shadows a field of sunflowers scans the sky

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