Sonnet Written Walking Under the Mess Some Magnolia Made
By Jay Deshpande

Even with my nose up here at six foot something I know
The color brown is sweet: this putrescence
Embarrasses no one: the petals treacly vessels jangling
Overhead yesterday have taken a hint and gone down into
The real grit of things: where better than the sidewalk
To speak achingly: I could go on: I’d say love makes us
Amenable to certain minor probable disasters: but what
I mean by love is spring: overeager and almost enough
To make me wake up and like the insides of my mouth
A little more: the petals talking vivid now: they say
Finish your work and come back to us: we want to be
Nearest: we know which of our atoms were once in you: you
Who are a flower-machine: who are a blossom for meaning:
The scent of sweeter senders: the slobberiest part of the kiss:

This poem was published in the American Poetry Review (Vol. 49 No. 03). Putrescence = a state of putridness, rottenness, corruption. Treacly = sticky, sweet. Note the colons connecting the many clauses of the poem. Note that the last line ends with another colon and not a period. I think it speaks to an on-and-on-and-on-ness of spring. This poem has so many good lines. I wanted to put at least half the text in bold. One more shout out for: "where better than the sidewalk / to speak achingly." Fine, another one for the conflation of love with spring: "I'd say love makes us / Amenable to certain minor probably disasters: but what / I mean by love is spring." !!