I don’t know

what bearded spranglegrass looks like.Not few-flowered panicgrass, jointed

goatgrass,unequal-eye grass,glumed goodbye grass,but I’d really like

to hold your hand anyway.Inside a humming.Inside knuckles rooting up napkins.

Inside your almost-handlebar mustache. I tell you I don’t knowwhat starved grass

looks like.It could be bottlebrush or catchfly grass or quackfor all I know. And you

could hear the knucklesmaking my black shoe blushunderneath Japanese chin grass

if you listened.