gypsy

she said

-i'll give you mars for a nickel,

you can retire that itch

from the street.

it's scorpion month,

so i'll give you

the others for free.

my neighbors are just,

white sightless crawfish

crawling on the bones

of the men who vanished

in the embers circled by stones.

they gorged

on the violins' tears

caught in the orbit i conjured

with flying silk and floating hair,

remembering:

other camps other fires other songs