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My work has been shapeshifting.

   "Through the worsening night
he howled horrors at the hopeless watchers;
swore to end them on the edge of his sword
in a morning massacre: that he meant to offer
their bodies gaping, to the Battle-Father
on the gallows-trees, a game for the corbies;
and they mourned in their sorrow."

--Rahul Gupta, from Beowulf

Silvics.

      "moon of three hares"

blind man bling · in the dawn golden
   glide on Renner Road
a stronger strange · you strive crisply
   the glare gluts your follythirst
this stone arch ails · by any hour's
   stilbfall or forgeabeyance

bright soaring · & the subfusc backdrop
   gather in the hall of the hapless
hoplites sequestered · inquirent qualms
   the cards show shattering
i know knaves rise · in a noxious scrum
   like this it's always them

Astral Tranquility.