By the prison gate lone brown napkin somersaults forward in the breeze Man in the wheelchair needs his umbrella back... sweat bulbs in my sleeves Twilight-tinged window scent of cooking liver three hours to Sunday "O, no one loves me!" a game for my mind woolly countless eons One shoe, a tin cup spoiled celery for breakfast shadow of the church Madman screams again my toweled hands jump to my dropped jaw Too hot for birdsong yet the rascals found my ledge for their warm chorus! Moments of silence if you added them all up no noise evermore "A book," she snaps about the tome at her nose and that's all I get Ineffable moon! I'll dub thee more adjectives 'til the morning bus I spare a spider but grant no extra help, at the strawberry patch "I could wither you" whispers the ghost from the elm as twilight spreads Twinned gliding goshawks Which one follows the other? Southward past the sun
