But, Dr Williams
they die miserably,
anyway
 
 
& the light goes on on the
kneeling Ave Maria no sun
shining - come -
looking wood
hold off
so that we could meet
in my bag -
close I felt
it was content
even though I still didn't
history - you can read it -
you can snow -
Bernadette cupped it in her hands
a hole filled with cured place
because & in response
I read the manuscript
thinking about the fog
glass shook &
tell everything afraid beside the fruit
form
of a cross town bus
to happen to
police we have strange stolen
love at the moment
to you w/ a poem some said nothing
was trembling
is like a popsicle
you can read drinking itself
to see it script
with no sharp edges
the last part always
falls off
on the damp pavement behind us
burning
the creative process
on yr clothes