bs-1
American
"Happiness," Joe says, "is a wild red flower / plucked from a river of lava / and held aloft on a tightrope / strung between two scrawny trees / above a canyon / in a manic-depressive windstorm." / / Don’t drop it, Don’t drop it, Don’t drop it—, / / And when you do, you will keep looking for it / everywhere, for years, / while right behind you, / the footprints you are leaving / / will look like notes / of a crazy song. / / [Tony Hoagland]