quivering arrows inch → → → →
→ → across the cage. caterpillars toeing the
lime rimmed salt
encrusted Oh of
the
goblet.
drop the gauntlet. they have less aim
than we
have purpose for
maiming
saving graces
for before
the Dinner's folded napkin dabs the
corners of
drunk mothereyes
the replicated disguise that licks the
spine
of every Encyclopedia Britannica from
one
to
thirty-two.
crunching molars between numbers,
allow context to define
the
angle
of
the
sexton
the
point
of the piston
imagine
the pain
of plant stamen
so much stamina in pollen.
in vitro growing
but no showing
how for we foul
f a l l
i n g
before pleading
for Korsakov and his bees.
