MANUAL GRAVITY


Scrape of shovel

Sediments of meaning multiplying in the woods

It's noisy down around our ankles

The land moans and shudders with broken bottles

Every time I look around I sink into this deepening of reclamation

Milk of Magnesia

An animal with its eyes popped off

Dr. Pepper embossed with a clock

Complete irrelevance

A twig dragged along the naked back to where the ass flares and
000where it assembles

Snow is always expected

Broken fence where you have no choice

And then those trees lit up