all water runs east when birds in red feathers roost
a chickory treat trussed up in mushroom silver
or pushing liquor with rusted gait
in mirage, potters fields dry in fetal circles
plastic boys play with bows & arrows
shooting their undiscovered lust at bent hawthorn bush
as shards of pink glass drowning out rain
come to capture, meaning, meowing in sync
her dress, transparent, her eyes black malt
what she holds in her hands is anyone's guess
but against the moon she's lighter than old paper
woven in question, a spear of anger liken to shame
all water runs east when girls grow up again
hmmm... interesting and good