With Sudden and Complete Articulation
With sudden and complete articulation,
the Fallon my front porch.
The alley: a bin of blonde.The kind of day where
you turn around and
are far away.I stampede through the house, sensing a chill
not really there.Yesterday, I bought a roll of stamps without thinking.
Packs of wild animals recede into the floor
of my bones.Here is an egg
with a crusty feather stuck on,
the most complicated reason
for existence.I fold myself into the bountiful matrix of wind.
