Night from the inside
flickering through skeletal trees the bat’s back story
sunset lava on all screens
swamp tree parodied by its reflection
holding it under
fire trucks one after another into the sunset
porcupine grazing at dark unreadable weeds
right at dusk that old coyote- shaped hole
nosing wild onions
ruffed grouse the split second before LAUNCH
The angel with a flaming sword as a middle-aged gardener, standing astride the cosmos going whack whack whack at every planet unfortunate enough to have been parasitized by intelligent life.
your pale face brushed by moth wings without moon
barn swallows night nesting nesting
a glow from the quarry jacklighting deer
stars among clouds I feel for my missing teeth
sleeping with the sky for a quilt
the heat of my sunburn
What does it mean to be a chaser of oblivion? Will the stars throw down their spears?
off alone in the cosmos forest pool
ripples left by a bat’s swift drink