Up to a cloudy anvil I will go
eyes drinking through the windows
of sealed machinery
one last lasso antenna
circling around a sword handle
cracked walkway
to the sagging house corner

blonde landscape for a dumpster's lid
neon's hamster cage gasoline coffee
strings humming for the split cheeks
over chrome roller blades
glass doors glued to turning books
lips filled and gulping green oil
on a flowered rug.

Light raging for the high levels
and flashing behind corners
wrapped corpse where the bench sat
outside the ticking market
mouth pressed within closing wings
button's map to a crushed can
smoke faint where the river coils
dark's rising bread.