"Why did I. Thought of everything as a middle, where to find an edge, to find a height. Thought of this fog, why. Somewhere our groves lament us, whom most they had loved, and the silver swimmer strokes silently by, how far from shore is hard to say."
- Anne Carson via @aliner
who would hear · in the angel orders
if i cried out crossing · the jaws of LBJ
gray morning shove-greed · i grow my bus'ness
in the careless corners · in the kiteslipt realm
roar of the restless · crowd seeps in
there's no barking back · nor redbrick inlet
pale cerulean parts · for spook radar
what the future will find · worthy of warming
cricket on the gray tiles · moves & stops moving
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