I guess the rain

In Angleland
where pavement clings
go hug yourself

Three trees are difficult:
mixed meters

familiar rodent grin at the PO
plainness glaze     
fuckpig lines

wall face got up
wall face

The girl shrank back

Glass bled and whispered, "Not long now".

Shape Moves

Face-to red flowers below the eyes

       This fine crow trod a square to fit

lambent feels

  Thin lizard of autumn coils at feet

           and you held your breath still

        then couldn’t say

   A danced round with a pivot

        plumb dropt from who knows where

All the wrecked boom patterns in the dark