This, welcome to: a dirty blank.
Drawn and charted, a tight circle of
Gravel. Botanical theme
Regression, several dis
Appointments and their relief
Track quick plot abandonment, mark its
Divergences and eventual returns in
Gullies. [In this space,] a small fountain of
Concrete. Permanent seasonal
Arrangement disorder. The Dancer
Here, I’ve buried a single peony
Bloom, knowing nothing will
Change I won’t draw growing down
Or into. I pace the lot through the heat
Always pouring, filling divots, slicking air
Greenish, juicing trash in the sun steamy.
I take cover as the Twins drift adeptly by.
Uncomfortable investigations in nature,
My role: a gutter, detached.
Fat flies and drums of municipal water.
Is this a city or a house, a home
Or a camp? Laws or rules, roles or
Honor? Myself or who. Less
The heat’s damage, inevitably.
All my options.
From Loner Forensics by Thea Brown, available now from Northwestern University Press.
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