Sonnet for Alice N.

Why & what is sweetness all alone? Either that or it becomes, alas, fleeting, Which actually helps, because of rhythm. & there’s a pale intensity to truth, no matter How pale it is on the levels we receive on. I mean, the minute you invent a time interval The more it seems to “jelly out” the excitation Of accidents;zum Beispiel, “Saginaw, Michigan.” After a while, we almost expect him or her To inveigle us into a cafe without bay-breasted warblers. It’s almost like we have a streak of orange-smell Which nobody’ll pay for because they can’t talk to it, Although that’s probably all wrong, or at least falsified By its very mention, like gravity. Do you agree?