ant5

Turning on the light I become someone alone in a house

an inkling

of the bee’s vision

purple clover

invited to feel

the stubble on her legs

autumn rain

i am a body

composed of ant

exoskeletons

i can hear

the missed cues

of ampersand and

prosthesis

lowland summer fields   the affluence of cows

crystal blue day

the institution has men

removing some trees

3am

divining god’s law

from raw onions

they guard

my sleep

old gods

this stupid war

feeling murderous hate

picking peaches

laconic processing redeems

supposed blue fins

veering through water

be sure and

mention my name

olfactory dimensions count

apples and oranges

tops of tupperware

something to save