Turning trees into guns is easy;
mouths into walls or heads into pollen,
not so in this morning rain.
Given a bouquet, the tree blushes;
patched bicycles fall over in rust
on the dirt roads. How convenient
the alley, thinking, sprouts a hydrangea
like a dream in a brain, simple.
Noah Burton's poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Paperbag, The Puritan, Outlook Springs, Cruel Garters, among others. He is a recipient of the 2015 Dick Shea Memorial Prize in Poetry judged by Tanya Larkin. Noah lives in New Hampshire where he works at a burrito shop, adjuncts at local colleges, and plays in the occasional band/perpetual solo project, House of 1000 Sports Cars. www.noahburton.com