renting double entendres in the trumpet of its loins

dawn is a view of a square ocean
its sad attempts to meet the sun
through a seance and sure
a bank may make a tryst with you
in a plume of blonde hair
there's a giraffe of roses
with each little rose capturing
some gem of ennui
in the tentacles of its center
like the tiny cabaret of ants
which lives on your knee
each requests a note
to undo its knot
the one to set you free