so when these new ghosts come ashore in black boats
drag them up the sand
when they take occupancy in the abandoned house on the bluff
not even the baker’s blind dog sleeps
I am a child ripening mischief in open cupboards
no one else knows this new ghost music
no one will tell them go away
no road between the dead’s house
and the living road
keeping low I belly through tallgrass not breaking a stem
but closer to the house I tangle
vine drags my ankles thorn pulls my skin
I free myself toward the house
in the darkness that lives inside a drawer
the kind of night that worry is
but these through the lit window are not my ghosts
dancing nude around a bottle singing wooky wooky
I hurl fists of peat against the window but they keep dancing
I light some tinder and throw it against glass
but they keep dancing and the dance goes like this