what did flowers do

before there were no more flowers

did flowers explode 

did flowers preen

what have flowers done

and what will flowers do

when flowers return

at your behest

watch the flowers

begging for an opportunity

to avoid the stigma

of being a messy flower

the lines are not yet flowers

the lines are striving to become flowers

they’re growing toward a state

they’ve speculated about

don’t deny flowers their hour of fun

we’re walking to the sex pad slowly

along the road

along the train tracks

hoping to arrive

at a nonperforated state

we’re playing doubles on the boat landing

we’re getting tickled by happenstance

his fingernails scratching our naked back 

his palpations singling us out

driving along the highway

holding her hand in the car

her name was either Petunia or Fred

and we found Fred or Petunia

to be a catalyst of what the pundits called “fun”

because Petunia or Fred forgave the perforations and the irregularities

the bursts of accidental happiness

bit by bit the dots became your mother

or his mother

maybe Petunia’s mother

Petunia’s mother and Fred’s mother

butted heads at the cake sale

searching for the correct frosting

the unearthly frosting

alongside the train tracks

his hands rubbing my back

in a decentered fashion 

corrugating me

I didn’t think I could become more corrugated

than the flowers had already posited me as being

the newspapers said that the flowers did something

but I don’t know what the flowers did

that’s why I’m asking you

what did flowers do

in the days when there were flowers

before we destroyed the possibility of flowers

ask Petunia

ask Fred

how it happened

that the flowers lost their autonomy

and explain why the strange man is walking

from stage right to stage left

across the eviscerated field

now floral again

finally for one moment floral

despite your casual, flawed interventions

crosscut this episode with the story

of a floral future that might still happen

and give me back the optimistic 

perforations and scratches

give me back the train tracks and the stigma