tonight i'll go to bed with a raised cup,
and be under puddled northwestern rains
when i wake up befuddled
the x-ray kids are scraping their boards on curbs
across the street and
letting irregular verbs floss their teeth
in the soft night i'm running a fever
there are small shapes
circling the hummingbird feeder
everything is rising and sinking in waves
each time i blink the arrays
of coordinates rearrange
i'm astranged from any shore i could cling to
the best irregular heart beat
i can bring you's correcting
in valleys of my angular sleep
i'm expecting you to be there
in the wreckage of my dreams
slipshod chronicles of folded in youth
with little truths
that appear in the smallest of openings
i'm homing in on our yard
flushed with new flowers
the day starts at these crepuscular hours
and i wait
for a new impulse
to trigger a trait
so i can reconfigure my limits
learning how to burrow
into the depths of my workings
with furrowing brow, murk
and a silence behind a curtain
has been the most dangerous magic
i have obtained
it's left me an occasional corpuscle
orbiting my own
brain
in search of an
impulse to land
and train me to expand my limits
i don't mean to be violent to deceased horses
but i can't be silent with these forces afoot
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