ant5

a query from

the agent about

my defects

when my wife says

what about me I tell her

they’re about nobody

the flies born in

the rain listen to my

troubles in the shed

my son says I’m not playing I’m having fun

EVE TRIP

lady carrying

dish looking for spot to put

little shine on things

fingers tucking in

edges each window open

all across the land

adjusting the hang

of the camisole wild beast

lurking in darkness

watching two women

in silk pantaloons copy

the veins of a leaf

crowds in black roaming

the hills to spoon smoke rising

out the volcano

a tough man takes seat

in corner with his eye out

for success at last

relating story

of the fish accurately

opens wooden door

amidst the living

dead bamboo stands old master

dangling from the wall

coverlet of white

butterflies carved in niches

on the rock mountain

red flower growing

from a cloud into pale blue

shining projectile

Lack of distinguishing features our new term for missionary zeal

Enough heat to possess a scent in the sweepings a blue stone

The nothing to say places they loom above the weeds

At some point in our conversation you took off your shoes

Spiders settling in where my habits wear away the edges

The wet spot on your pants has dried a school bus underground

Set on fire the brief history of prosthesis it smells of iris

Fastened by a tangle a strand of hair cuts into the apple peel

Some days we hide in the vowels the sprinkler leaves a few weeds

the crow eats crow it tastes like chicken

my new pill

I already have

the side-effects

the rose of occasion

you choose to vomit

information is being

an entirely different worm surfaces

short of breath, tall of dark

waiting for the ground war

beauty is not the point

most of beauty is icebergs

the topic crowds with horror

late patterns of thought

media pretends