Light, light.
Naked light imposed on the brown
Fortress of Humankind, and expected
To grow,
Raise its own children.
Raise its own head out of God’s loss
I wouldn’t do that.
I wouldn’t believe in that.
Always the ant beholden to a timely hill.
Only so much its attendant.
The love story I’m going to tell you is short—
Surprisingly short, given the sprawl of time:
Each gauge corresponds with something on the ship we need.
And when we hit impracticalities we say
We’re all in the same boat.
I don’t want to dicker over class. I know who I am.
Everywhere I ever lived I hid five dollars in a paper
Football by the largest tree nearest the front door. Look
For a measure of pink yarn. You’ll find me.
You’ll never find me.
Everything about a haunted house
Feels certain when you’re afraid
In the dark you see something move;
It divides you. You adjust your
Focus helplessly.
Guts ecstasy
It’s kicking in.
Hemingway said bankruptcy takes place
In two stages: the first slow, the second fast.
When someone loves you and you touch their hair,
You feel yourself falling.
Nobody’s fingers in her hair need a god.
Verse one is mostly click-clack
Click. The second verse is click-clack
Click as well. Older, but no wiser.
Verse three opens on a scarecrow brilliantly
Colored by the sun. Click-clack
Click. Please keep my hand by your heart.
