what are these words, friends,
shuffling their letters, about? what star
ry-eyed sport could spell and cast them
into asterism, the unheard of listenables?
my notebook’s blanks are becoming few
er. let the nude let the bottle even milk,
let it all hours pour. let the pen drain die
scratch. the draft in the bathroom is flutter
ing the toilet paper dangling from the win
dowsill. waverly. ledge. the habits of the
horizon have my mind on a milk carton.
planet is greek for wanderer. is this wit
ness relocation? athletic letters ceaseles
sly switching teams? perhaps olympiads
leapfrogging on and off the podium of
use? and from where will the next note
book come? it’s friends not facilities,
words not worries.