an open window lets in seventy
degrees a beat before midnight
Indian School Road, now wide enough
to accommodate the range of pitch points
I imagine the coordinates of named stars
can be seen a few miles from this place
these walls enclose the change of season
houseguests come to represent
I continue to erase what interferes with
spontaneity in taking breath
late night nanosounds resemble
insects jumping rope with dental floss
No comments:
Post a Comment