Gallous

cleverly arranged lightning,
three little pockets of bird
hanging from it,
exceedingly beautiful in
their wait

for closed sound shurikens
inside bricks inside
pylons that hold up the bridges
who wait

as people in pairs of socks
(sliding doors
opening out as sockets)
tremor,
their lip friction
shaking the suspenders/

before they can know;
a tumble
takes a shadow,
napes it to the wiring
for the beaks to come pick at
to undo (fervently)
the knots in the absence 
of light.

Cool Detachment

Herewhere
started with a shout of bright
thenthereweres.
Tomorrow is a Sunday out of the Bi
ble
and men's ends are going to
press on pews
dividing up duty in to
concerns caught in
cried-out candlesticks
clenched.

clenched paper droughts,
this is. even though
ink connects seas to mouths,
the fingerdrift that traces
through continents is mis
sing

.turns
 

seeeye

i'm to read
but i, these words
make up a lick
i read between my fingers.

if all i do is to participate,
this is be.

for
those
words

a cocoon with no ends
you weave a fibre/somehow

it
there

castle walls
many-roomed
keyholes to
language, my lockpick
to learn

you
take
the footsteps I shadow
trace a living
climbing angles