VIABLES

Viables! The small plate is large. The class starts too early.

The beautiful day turns ugly. Black ice. Some creature

climbs the tree, scuttle of claws and fur-frieze,

trunk blanking its snout. No apple core, no slimed

cilantro, will rot that pile. No late wintry, sleepy easing,

few birds returning.

Spectrally speaking, the sun wounds and downs, spikes its

setting,

fangs the eyes. I hoist a book between me and it.

It dazzles around it. It, it, inharmonious house,

the it-hit no intimate you can protect through.

Curve a curtain why don’t you. Hit-run.

Pay attention. A too-wit, a to-who, sere words, mere

letters. Weird mirrors. More airs. A creature clambers,

its face erasing. A disgrace. Plank of pages displacing

a house in space.