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.
