A HAT FOR DASHIELL

The wings of the servants
and forest hats.

Oh  romantic perigee how am I
to salvage even your circus tent

The clowns have escaped with the best
of your rigging
                                and the geek
has turned
his eyes on the Great Zildaff

Pony me to Rome or south
St. Louis

Even the bride who gave me children
is grafting hats
onto the rubes
                                  faster than

I can sling them
onto the rack.