Reading Ben Lerner from behind
Without Ben Lerner's express written consent
I am Ben Lerner "noctilucent"
Against Ben Lerner's particular ass 

The pedals of the tricycle in Ben Lerner's front yard
     haven’t rotated, felt reciprocation in months 
But nonetheless, here I am, Ben Lerner
Atop Ben Lerner, concerned about Death
All tucking away the c-word from an old,
     untitled Ben Lerner poem,
     an even older poem by Wallace Stevens

From Ben Lerner's mind 
To Ben Lerner's mouth 
And into, and onto, Ben Lerner's
     night-blooming genera.