e. v. noechel |
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Clearing
From Vault
Raking leaves with half A broken flowerpot I coerce the snails Off my cats azalea Grave. Sparkling snot Trails glimmer like moon Commanded oceans and solstice Stars shoved across the sky A pile of leaves I build Next to cat bones And the fishy-sweet Smell of dead thing. I clear the ground Under the yardstick Marker sanded Clean of numbers By summer storms And the acidic Powers of bird shit. I tend him Like a wounded ankle, Favoring the other side. Move move move move No time for silly Things like carrion Or flowers for a plaything Lost like marbles, But I haunt his corpse Like a familiar, packing Dirt and picking candle Stubs like buttercups. |