Brilliance is a carcass
on a snow-white beach.

Envy never sleeps.
I tell my children truthfully:

a long red beard is breaking
from the darkness scale.

He’s chasing you because
you’re new. Because he’s old

and sees the town in dirty tones:
violet sheep and wine-dark

corn. He burns the evening
rainbow like a wartime bridge

until it’s charred and charlatans
topple out of  robin eggs

and pox  your happy window
by capturing the ledge

and chattering like X-rays
that crash into your flesh.