ant5

behind the clouds
no brighter than a moon
the white sun

 
in a ziploc bag a sparrow
waits to be buried

 
glare from
the setting sun

 
blocks out
the longs ads on
the side of the bus

 
only a test
the clouds unfurl
reconnoiter

 
we exchange apples
and then eat them

 
the water in the jar
trembles indefinitely
on the surface

 
the photographs
lie to me again

 
that mosquito
that got away

 
on the shelf
in the dust
his body still

 
the dried leaves
move among
the oblivious pedestrians

 
bats who are
lost in the daylight

 
the back of my hand
more distinct than her face

 
the candlelight
jerks around in bluish
circles on the ceiling

 
not the color green
the spinach stains the water

 
a memory of
intermittent sickness
translucent then wavering

 
I assemble a structure
of possible apologies

 
the sidewalk
reeks of rain
the way weeds inhabit cracks

 
it travels over
the reflection of the kitchen light

 
on a steam opaque window
a ladybug
lost in the center of winter

standing in

the kitchen my zippers

all zipped up

they huddle around

themselves the white chairs

in a pile of leaves

I tell my dog I do a good Spock

.

our query

the metallic bottom

to it

.

.

.