The childlike smile and cold lips bother them, Jim, I wanna see the snow fall in winter, blood blooms in the icy footstep plateau, a tattered blanket of shotgun orchids and ribbons of frozen rain sang, blue-neon green electrical storms melting the stars and wayward windmills dotting the coastal pastures, the burnt red mud and slick-wet black-bricks asleep among the polite prairie silhouette of flowers and perfumed umbrella agarics and kinetic Venetian carousel at Lakeshore, the dying eggshell white-blonde vampires at the delighted docks, crystallized ships in the harbor, teeth in the smooth neck, obscure orange hue of ancient whale-oil lamps and all cast under a nervous sky of broken-dinner plate clouds and the dirty smoke of another war, a Heavenly and curling breeze, potent heartbreak and gunshots, a fat man in a denim suit bludgeoned to death, a head in a steering wheel, his dumb face a raspberry mosaic and patchwork of cuts, purple and bruised brackish grime and smutty fog, a blank sadness, dead eyes like mine, like the Pope, an obedient slumber, curled like a question mark, in the tiny houses along the rocky shoreline, warm bodies in love.