I turn a floor
as level is
less orbital
than some rooms,
if a hall as
labyrinth
& alcove niche
a hyacinth,
the skylit
octagon astream
the pleiades
brief hour’s
return, & still
I wait an age
Poetry
I turn a floor
as level is
less orbital
than some rooms,
if a hall as
labyrinth
& alcove niche
a hyacinth,
the skylit
octagon astream
the pleiades
brief hour’s
return, & still
I wait an age
mice click in
electric houses
& boot about
a solar panel,
a dish no
cookies in,
‘tho led as
reindeer
to secure
incognito,
ergo I go
unvideo’d
one by one
to Virginia
move as sum
of fore…
b…c…ol’m,
from qtr 2
by bits,
but gee…ps
who has
two nights
starred ad;
a silver
dolor for 2,
or 1 asleep
side saddle,
ride thru
same as fig puree
import export anyway
always out of dates
to the coign
the address
of ellipses
nonetheless
parenthetical
a bounced
allowance
overdrawn
this heart
each cliff
& someone
else a glyph
appose a clef
sharp left