~~~~*

Mole-tick and tick-mole
have wandered out into the rushing light
maybe more'll follow 'em through the brass fence
enskirting the capitol, from eggs locked in place
to the beak that hovers just above the forehead
in dissemblage, in error, they trip
painfully as ballerinas, the world
winces opens a whole wall with
the rip sweep of a curtain

Tick-mole and mole-tick
have been watching numerous trucks go cautiously past
are the sex inside the credit union
move the hours around to unschedule all appointments
lie to themselves about the effects of weather
grip each other's sorrow in cracked laundromats
are going down to the river to bathe in their solitudes together
your beautiful arms are the ancient newspaper
where they go to die

~~~~*