I must have fallen asleep, for all of a sudden there was  the moon, a huge moon framed in the window. This is how the roomers let grief in like a timed sieve. It goes both ways between window glass. Chords of bickering light. Chokehold of a brother on a brother. Each animal sigh into the basin of dusk.

 

I hold the dream out with a smoke wall.  Staple the city up one theft at a time.  Sirens at least last in the brain, trickling through the movie’s thrash.  A woman pulling her stockings off in the entry when her mother comes down the stairs.

 

What I am trying to photograph stalls out, pastes itself to the sun-bleached poster of the shop.

 

               dusting for what

               phantoms scour

               furniture for

 

               little death for

               a sailor wishing

               the sea from his chest

 

I go holding the rain up with a black umbrella in the rubbled season here.

 

               among kings

               known never to

               touch a door

 

Won’t you open the iron gate to the small quarry become garden? Catullus to Quintillion, stabbed on a train by light through faulty curtains. Debauched land from our lord in its rightful quadrant & decade.

 

Known for feeling through the darker paths with my bird set.  Dogs flow loose into the rivery sedge. You may have my word to hold against your chin. Apothecary moonlit shadows abound now.

 

Stood a while in the landlord’s threads, drawing the partitions to show the crowds what became of the wedding flood.

 

                held as if for

                mice to take hold

                suspicions to wrack

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