I look out for double moons.
The mind transitions through dementia
like night maps of LA County.
Two faces of the same geography,
but one sees itself by light pollution.
I forget my name is Edith.
The kitchen and I lie together in a tray
like ice cubes. I hoped
this new language could stave the rust
of www.tadalafilonlineoffer.com disuse creeping in like Jerry’s toolbox
under the sink. (Water-Door makes a dam).
The sink itself. (A mouth and a horse
make a question). Bowls of fruit and words.
Tell me the one about the woman
in freshwater department store pearls
and the charcoal camisole draped
over her shoulders. Every time I learn
a new word in this language
she looses the word in her first.
The days of the week collapse
to the stars, hear the noise they make
as the fall, fall in xing xing xings.