9.


Indeed I remember the Cyclops in December


He’s quickly becoming a prop or a mop


The public pool now brimming with crudeThe park


In its infinite wisdom a blackoutYour father’s


Business is the business of simulationA finch


On a tree branch’s long budding line


Where on earth is my mother when I blister


The sun burning down through the net


Of our livesThere’s a thing with one eye


That looks hurtCan you feel it?Going going


Goner and so green we I can tasteThe cows


On their stilts getting stuck in the heavens


Minerva Minerva they love you on purpose


Your ambulance breastbone terrific