i sang out
for the walls
looked beatable
close up

the thought of
taking a crowbar
to the cracks i saw there
pacified

from curtain to keyhole
a single note moves from
show to show in search of its role

no matter the size of the ending in sight
chase the most promising light

off an early smell, curbside,
comes afternoon

a sidewalk of wet paper
and straw

endless noses craning up

practice was the word
i used to separate
the land from the sea

the first to look back
was the first to think escape

the two outcomes merge
when you check the tape

here

in pastel light
on snow
waits a great urgency
hungry to be known

off my shoulder
a figure moves across
the shutter door

a better view emerges
under the glass

the fire that burns through this
expression is now
seasonal,
sorry to say

learn to be less haunted

a house of blueprints
with eraser eyes, adjusting
to tiny movements in the earth’s crust

borrows a slick pen and
draws a pull
from the workers in the field,

using blindfolds as headbands,
bent over the endless work
that comes with surrender to the flow

no railings in heaven
says the fine print on the
waiver

it seems reasonable when
faced with the alternative

a brick staircase and
heavy rains

a concrete tie trail
and chains