///////)))))))

Her death's real walking past
with little dog and shopping bag
small shoulders loom
larger than monuments
lie down on their own shadows,
the spotlight on goldenrod,
crashed cars in an oval blaze
nimbus around her body lain transparent
floating away on private terrors
over the haze of the capital,

Where some waved signs
we clenched in an alley,
waiting for the obscure visit,
our demands as small
and as dark as the earth.
She taught the pigeons to play squirrel.
She taught rugby to tennis, in another country
I've never tested
the bathtubs, the electricity seems
to crawl around quite harmlessly
until she shows
through a subway or a space worm
to be a dandelion
at the top of an unlit hill

Trapped in a vase cut
from oxygen reality
little particles follow her down
neutrinos powdered with black ash.