GRAVITY FEED Part Fifteen

15.
Not sure how to spell that
would you repeat please
(engine running driver asleep
hedgerows full of gorse and fuchsia
how the rain brings the blossoms on)
not sure if it was wheel or wither
was it wheat or west or mill,
truckload of apples, Avalon?
Are you sure? 
Does it bite?
Take off your house and wear the sky,
I know you’re shy,
keep talking fast, they won’t see your eyes.

GRAVITY FEED Part Fourteen

14.
So something has changed—
the wave curled in at Brighton Beach
minutes after Rockaway—
we intercept our fates
traveling perpendicular
between Jupiter —that tyro star—
and where we are.
A line of fate
runs down the palm—
my head anyhow is full of Gypsies,
I am the tower of Babel
I am in heaven
you are angels
staggering around—
or is fate somehow
different from what happens?
A secret elsewhere buried deep in here?



GRAVITY FEED Part Thirteen

13.
Her  body
changed while she was away from it.
When she came home
the legs were longer, the floor
seemed a long way down,
thinner, less interesting.
She bought a book
to tell her what to do
but all it said was I love you,
a useless sentiment at the best of times—
She dreamed she was a chandelier
and streamed light down to fill an empty room

by then the ground was really far away.

GRAVITY FEED Part Twelve

12.
The sly beauty of the actual,
that’s all.
Leave behind you bits of paper
scribbled up with writing
they’ll find the right ones
eventually,
                             your
zettelbuch,
you can be sure of that—
nothing is ever lost, alas.