Where Witches Take Tea

At the vegetarian cafe in Burlington
where nothing happens, my mouth is sluggish
with wine
and sweet
vanilla beans
in cream,

yet the words in my mind blister with witchcraft
I would unleash if I had a wand full of magic
and the will to burn the smoking truth into timbers
of the raging false structure surrounding us all.

It would not take a detective long to consider the wind speed
and elevation in calculating the fool.

The smile on the face of the innocent pinches
and converges at the touching of hands

and the imagination of so many sun-drenched days.