was foraging outside a patch of burning birds,
papering and evaporated blue over a thin field
and caught myself inside a nest like an eroded
or the strutted gap between vent and vented,
and humming or I was the wing and circle saw
full of hungry throats or bound to them and
or trees pierced into a scatter of trajectory, or cars
torched and chiming, and/or you were there:
carrier cloud, you empty along the bottled
you the jealousy harp, you the scenting dog,
you the lakeward, the forget.
you the clapper of each bell.
published in Octopus 10