simple songs

I cannot breathe nor run with this less language.

Angela Carr, The Rose Concordance

the moon is self-contained

it says nothing about the rest of us

, between these condos

& financial buildings

try to listen as your lines expand

what is it Marcus said about one hundred

& twenty syllables?

snow patterns over worth

time is what happens so

not everything happens at once

at least one theory; another,

all time happens

at the same; a simple passage,

standing at the window, distracted

pulls down Christmas lights

Lainna naked, humming

a small tune

the cartilage of warmth

, soft along the junction

the moon wanes strumpet

plunges as it misses

hanging down around the

knees, that dare not speak

Lady Godiva, redirects

when the ends of the earth

is the opposite shore

wind catches sails our hair

& these artificial flowers