"The shadow peels itself off"
The shadow peels itself off
the wall and addresses you.
Or you wake up to
a barely-there earthquake. Siren. Echoing against the hills.
Pls. not to make snow my bed.
Not that I’m scared of the congregation—
but the thing behind it: that
black-handled baglady
hanging by nail off
Nope. In the evening juice
squeeze out 10 lemons
and walk all night.
Empty bowels into the pot
and look for stones.
What here, in the suburbs?
Yeeees grasshopper.
. . . and look under the stones.