on its stave leaves in segmented
nitro coward of stirred parts amulet fog
wintry sleet prostitute on strewn desert grit
saxophone case melted greenhouse
dosed orange phlebitis and bleach
by this only we like gems in mud
uneventfully greet a dark one bedroom
unto leprosy or banners of a rat
expert sand and the passing leviathan
so my arrows turn away at day’s close
to a medial pane. epitaphs look conventional
the oak looks like a cyprus in experiment
bequested to youth’s insouciant glance

Originally published in White Wall Review 40 (2016)