It is the year of parrot flush ...

It is the year of parrot flush
--T Berrigan, poem LXXVI
calm where horrible green parrots call and swing
and scatter se crisp as lignum fat as beans
just discovered harvested from plantations powdered
amethystine in this crimson joke's become
in the mad abstract dark
real property again the preserved wheat
tinged on sour voluptuous hands
A colony's wire whittled negligencies all grapey
gnarled and butter-coloured fermenting barley
and after baking slowly now
the verdurous jack-fruited parables
bruised by means of the hooves into ...