late for the 19th and out of sequins

April 19

the egg built into the sky – or

break the walk, skillful, a heart in the face

of fracture


one bulb growing

a forcefield into forget

the color


of sick walled hospitals

and their tear-

away walls, the flaking wood


stripped to knock

for luck – to take the posts

put them up


and up direct into

the hippocampus to orbit

other folk, and fold


in place, the neuron

firing time and whatever

follows. there are


lancets for threading

the drops together

water in ever-frozen


minds – whole


between the folds


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