There are those that in the distance seem a swarm of gnats those that with their barking try to rally us in a campaign against the stars those that torment their prey
Praised be friends. Praise enemies. Praise the dark above. Praise hangovers. Praise cigarettes. The vulture and the dove.
He was an example of anti-nominal determinism, though he was friendly in manner, kindly explaining that my light headedness
In some last inventory, I’ll have lost a season, through the occlusion of summer by another hemisphere.
I breathe the leaves of the basil It has news for me— For all my senses
Alec, I said you’d be around by stratagem or shift looking for a lift to the somewhere burial ground
Like wallabies we hurtle This way and that Unworried whether the world Be round or flat.
A yacht lies down in my window, on the harbour the dusk has come.
Wake with a kiss on your lips. The sun steps down through trees. You sit in the corner of my eye all morning, working on something.
