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
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One Good Shot
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
One Tin Box One Wet Ox
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
Until A Drill Bit
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
I Sold A Tourist One Broom
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