testing the wind on my forefinger a miracle of phrases

 

 tattered waves 
why must keening tears 
leap as an arc?

 frosty fountain coughing out wars into heads each growing a proboscis

 tears salting a cumbered shell sticking out of cracked earth 

 

 day’s end waves wash into a desert of hairs

 my shadow on impulse walks behind posts

 

 

and like in Pessoa’s room night enters through the window

 

they form and disperse or collapse to form disperse or collapse

in the time of saxophone laden pop songs you bought a brooch and you were sad and it was a seahorse with aquamarine eyes and you put extra gravy on your chips and your best friend had a pet lizard and you liked autumn but you still don’t know what type of lizard it was

 morning fog the rowan nearly a fist emoji

 re-watching the movie you notice the father

 a pigeon coop full of brass instruments

 oswald’s shower curtain we learn to count lichens

 between sips of tea we remember the names of potatoes