832 Readings | 6 Ratings

TEMPER ON ITS OWN



A figure of sound measures

The unacceptable way you move

Between viewer and view

Landscape seems invented

This is not cooking music

A full coat rack continues the empty house

I hope you are home when I forget to call

Weeds sieve through mulch

I hate appearing in other people’s dreams

A spare key disappears in the pot

Certain aimless alarms

Where the plot invents the landscape

Three days a week for thirty minutes

I remember why I wake up at night
Posted 05/11/10
first appeared in Mrs Maybe Issue 3 http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/
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