Woods are teeth in the wool
veins clamoring for blood penetration
arcs of swordlike light rending pace
to still time in an urn of forked leaves
lenses dark as a veiled room eats clover
grapes on scattered birch gunshot layers
trespassed paths of ice and needles twining banner
where pasted ferns speak to tangled letter
twigs diverging with a pulse hammer
wigs of coal on cemetery benches
eating rail through spectrum'd eyeglass
sockets in the dried mud of ages
smooth fossils with laser light
flagging seasons with walls that burn
glass tar in the pot that's pestled
by a thousand gouged-out eyes
in orbiting powder.