Dear Peter,

Thanks. For saying that.
There's a word for us
in French but I misplaced it,
a fine duck with a pretentious waddle.
I think I'm a cloud now.
My job is forgetting.
I could still fall in love each fall
with the unknown substance,
maybe some lavendar or Satan's harelip.
I think the latter is a flower,
although I have misplaced the manual.
Like a nurse, stand there
and tell me all this is possible.
Walt Whitman jerked off dying soldier boys
under D.C. blankets and quilts.
There are so many wonderful ways
to contribute to the war effort.