The day’s evil ends, county of soft air and airport bars
where dog’s hair slogs out the horoscope
                                                floats atween logic
                        nor the Other View

for-why he heng hys hed adoun to have
such sorwe and not be ded

Looking Around Wildly, don’t be fooled where it ends
                                  nor where the separations begin again, leaves
bending shadow reach out &
                        lose the waterways, dream pages of doubt and fertility

Doesn’t   look   good,   another   ‘beware the charms’
wave of mud, zip-drive
                       waiting for restart &
            shafts of moonlight

as if there are two drives large as a man, hurtling and cursing
            The Bullshit Artist
slips back to alterity & craving
                         the brilliant reply, tornados appraising
                                      that was the open door! the poor love
                         hidden for Years as she flies off
                                                 once or twice
         before the killing sheds.