seedless the sky is neither fruit nor berry
thinking itself a Spaniard the birch
as simple as a stalk of grass swaying in the wind as simple as that
not telling anyone about the marshmallow you ate
Christ like this field in Burgundy
replacing you with a line of marigolds
while some are barely green others are double yellow
recognising bicycles a flower
fried onions the wooden parrot's tongue
fried sausages the child's yawn
like sacred music the newt’s belly
it could be something else her as a houseplant
RoboCop the sky just before sunrise
after grafting two pieces of soap a boy falls from the sky
still the stone age hooded crow
like a lentil you crush the moth
“ … but in the city you can have 2, 3 or 4 shadows moving at different speed”
beyond Coeur d'Alene Zac learns Greek
the last winter at your father's house
on Wednesday you touch a geranium
