Wont O’Clock

O, do it now,

but not today,

appoint an hour

meant to stay

a single file

in each lane

‘tho she talks

of nothing in

a dented car,

or he, it could

be he, himself —

but you make it

‘thru the landmar

they tear down;

you know you’re

losing it, but

you’re never late;

sure, he’s overbook’d,

the pretty clerk

is out to lunch

A Slant Light

‘tho she’s rye n’

in a sundress

& her shawl is

knotted moonlight

in the shedding

of the cords

she wearies of,

when a sample

shall or as

a wick attend

the mending of

a silence bent

more the hearth,

the wind runs

through a slant

light fallen

sudden to

the flintlock

on the floor,

she wouldn’t ‘tho

Comb In Hand

two yuan, or

more into

horse races,

fresh prints

on muddy track

of flatbed truck,

some I’ll buy

Kentucky bread —

or re-read

to morrow, dailies

blown against

a broken fence —

the driver, she,

is no fool &

shall not bet

on ‘Khan Again’,

or ‘Polo Anyone’ —

there’s ‘2nd Cents’

& ‘Squeaky Cleang’ —

‘tho her hearts upon

‘Raspberries Baby’

Clickety-Clack

a corvair swerves

& clips the shoulder

so they’re missing

link —she calls it —

& pretty things, he,

in kick-up dust

usual per byway —

more than Many-

Crows, who knows

their names, ‘strut’,

& that’s ‘curious’,

‘tho the shone one

carries off the

hooded falcon

there, on mossy rock —

the falling bees

sweep pollen 3by3,

for winter keap,

& honey climbs

to get it back