966 Readings
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
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