You know that cages

   are ornamental

      and orders are called menus. 
You sat through the training

   now you’re trained.

      A major symptom is elevation. 
You find the blanket

   to be satisfactorily

      romantic.
 Fake grass is the image

   you were looking for.

      Inchoate drawing in a broke off
voice message, broken off

   from your professional voice…
You include cinnamon

   in the oats

      and order more beer. 
It’s morning and evening somewhere.

   You wonder how mirror

      stores operate.
Borne out by tickling

   is antiquated

      and plain wrong. Even so
you bore it

   for the manacled daughter

      of the house who broke off
all engagements to wear that dress.

   You notice the plover’s nest

      in the courtyard opposite  
and how awful

   it must be

      to circle.