a ladybug goes drunken circles on the ceiling
while I wait for the alarm to say it’s time to set the clock
it’s time to confuse arrrival
when I sound like the character in a different story, a different film
where in a different way, pure decoration or subsistence
subsides or simply shakes
there’s a tree full of large birds with small heads. there are broken things behind us. some slight dismay is permitted. wave the affected (as in posturing) limb to and fro. this regular pattern is a sign of defeat. the enemy — who is the enemy? the enemy is invisible. whose enemy? your sharp neighborhood.
last night loosens and something is set free
something is set into motion
something is described by the terrible arc
inside or outside the limits of punctuation
the word ‘this’ describes me perfectly
