Your tail flutters like a white flag.
The half-light flattens. It’s your eye
that keeps fighting

Your tail flutters like a white flag.
The half-light flattens. It’s your eye
that keeps fighting
This dream soil is rich with clay.
We should dig out a pond, mound up an island
at its middle, and sail hobby-boats of square sales
the sadness of it all made me believe some people are born
by contradictory value & others, by veneration
Do you hear the wren
through the thin window-glass?
What are some flowers
to the starling
picking insects for her hatchlings
from between the blooms
surrounded by strange trees & prickly bushes & tiny lawns & dangling flowers & so many
rows of succulents & morning light licking the bricks
everywhere
By King Grossman Through the gray blanketing cloudsa breakthrough of silverstop and lookstop everythingwhen the blue dogis most low downfrom out across the Pacificthe beam is there earlier today i’d…
Had you gone to the grocery,
you wouldn’t have heard it—