The moon spills mercury on thorn and stem with fingers that plucked the tightest budof pimento dark red roses — and now the night is a slow unbuttoning of wings of love and algebra as the wind hums lazy...

They leave their base as the sun dips below the earth It's dusk as they take flightsquadron after squadronstealth coating,scolluped wings and pointy noses.Somewhere in the skythe squadrons separateand seperate again.With radar like accuracyeach individual finds its targeteach target...

put the poet away no way to put it any other way The words strike the floor,low and heavy,a drum you didn’t mean to summonbut summoned anyway. put the poet away no way to put it any other way The echo answers...