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of twenty-eight walls liv+ &  so there’s a lot six rooms four windows   five if I count two side by side separat’d why would I do that   one sun sets both West at no time at four a m no-one is alone

men could wear mittens to sleep with a scorpion while the room rattles   the earth may tremble regardless a train whistle North in a small hole   a tunnell’d canyon parallel to a sunset six itchy fingers

in an arroyo a bookman’s pick strikes a cache no ambush is set   despite the pipe smoke mesquite & fray’d powder blue denim one good match   a vane gray windmill interrupts intermittence gone with a shade of

I woke too early later I thought that ok and made up the bed   imagination in a tight corner a coin a Canadian   & a lost fairy who points due North to a wall not under the bed

while I was there too apart from that I was of an old ox walk’d by   I took ten photos because the light never chang’d green a good color   as for celadon yesterday in Chinatown I fed him a bowl