November's gone to the hacked marrow

of last December's last moon,

skies of raging ruin

for stacked mammals,

fireworks from garbage can mouths

in the furrows of a bankrupt south.

Patios adrift in orchards

searchlight cartoons, friends of an enemy,

stretching to meet the locus

of the divine locater,

willows gone to reeds

hewn ragged on the hollow breeze.