I’m restless about affinity     There’s a form

of am in every dream     Stress prevaricates

Aniseed lingers     You can be too fond of fences

making shiny choruses     Air is a treasury

The horizon fills with     shallow light

There’s devil in the air      and everything’s

forgettable or repeated      by cheer leaders
I failed at being     a host as crumbs kept falling

My wounds itch       on the right-hand side

and I made lines break      like bones

that made me reel
Form is simply vanity     I contemplate the heart

of each vegetable     How do you say what to say

Genius is like terror     You can never be that jolly

with scattered feet     The old bush had to be dug up

There’s too much noise      Worry is a form of idealism
I fret each dirty line     The horizon fills

with self regard or       the last light on the gum

which is a pink glow you can      only see
I revise my chemistry     I argue with stairs