a trojan horse
“why did you watch it if you
did not like it.”
“I thought you liked it.”
you recall a term
for violet place settings. I
picked at a dried piece of yesterday’s
supper with my thumbnail.
that one trilled note piercing
surprised me the thrush
flapping out of my throat.
dismissed from sunday school
the latchkey carpenter
at loss as to
what to repent
his trail petered out dripping pitch
whose hollow scent would stick with you
fingered your collar
turned up in style
manual transmissions
spread southeast into
spanish moss and swampland.
how do you know the mosquito is not a vector
you’re not dead yet that’s how
and when your mother granted you birth
and you drew the short straw
amicably limned tincture of cedar and fir
and that sentinel sat up nights
a sight for lines or tents
your ice canoe
headed out
to skate on the underside of
“his eminence in exile”
or
“seattle lsd ’96′”
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