imagine fog here
street lights popping on
mocking birds fall from oranging syca-
mores heat hums
a tide of car traffic
fog swims with chemicals, the cul de sac
subducts
we move into the underyard I am
only picking a way through the debris field
(instructions to come)
we make industry or
walk in circles
after shadow
in the street a tractor
curls its iron hand
we release more air
and air is more than air
for instance
the dove is never
perfectly
still
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