South of Clark

 

run the

I pulled off highway
above Lake Pend

could hear cricket's
against sky
passing

animal and insect sounds with

made two levels of
rhythm running world

unwaverable bass
to the next
stopped

but the crickets

our
world

smoothly
through
the

 

Resolutions

 

Through turmoil,
horse.

Night flattens,
stitch.

Try out a new stranglehold.

Into a large hole,
only from touch.

Him (crowded in the box),
burst on the track,
in a bag of ash.

Flush his cheeks,
eyes,
space that reaches,
in dreadful disrepair,
on its hinge.

No Wonder You Rise in the Night

 

The
neighbor's dog
will not stop

barking
before stepping
on the first

wave
its weight
over my shoulder

blades
There are
easier ways of

making
sense, yelling
across rising water

etched
on the
heads of pins

But
the boy
who always has

his
hand up
ties the poem

to
a chair
with a rope

Imagine
him surprising
his new invention

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