A Dedication to Change

A puddle files for daylight and is granted a trumpet.

Golden hum, 

edges butter-warm, margarine chanting a hex.

Every letter molting into something with knees.

A frog arrives as a rubber stamp for rain.

It presses its wet syllable onto everything:

toast, doorknobs, the silence behind power outlets.

I peel a minute and find a smaller minute inside,

peel that and find a stairwell that smells like gravel,

descend until the banister is a tail and it wags.

Currency of the afternoon: paper clips shaped like horizons.

I spend three on a rumor of wind; it arrives laminated.

We salute. The wind salutes back with a damp certificate.

In the sink, a bowl is learning the concept of lake.

It nails the audition.

Applause from the cupboard: porcelain with secrets.

On the sidewalk a cone of caution marries a bee.

Their vow is mostly static electricity and citrus.

I enter a door that was pretending to be a stain.

Inside: a bureaucracy of moss.

I take a number; it’s amphibious and hums at 440Hz.

Gravity wears colorful sleeves and insists on my autograph.

I sign with a footprint that keeps hatching.

The paper congratulates me on my future ankles.

A laundry list of unread emails puts on frog suits.

They leap into a briefcase full of puddles.

The briefcase closes like a polite thunderclap.

My shadow develops a zipper.

I unzip it and out pours yesterday’s echo, still warm.

We feed it flies of assumption until it learns to hop.

A traffic light sneezes and all three colors become one note.

The note tastes like dandelion and wet lint.

I chew. The air applauds. A lily pad takes attendance.

Somewhere between rib and ribbit, a door forgets it is a wall.

Somewhere between yolk and yoke, the sun files for a name change.

Approved by rain. Stamped by the tongue.

I hold a jar and shake until it grows legs.

It escapes up my sleeve and invents a holiday,

Citizens parade.

The floor tilts, the ceiling learns to blink,

my name slips off its hanger and becomes weather.

The last unread corner of the room clears its throat:

a dedication to change.