Against the Master


The parcel of mint to cradle

the body. My miscreant love.


The inevitable deaths

of birds, and the wraiths


wrapped in my circuitry.

My lack of halo or even


help. The hateful potential

of an end in flight and


all the poisonous possibilities

of water and atmosphere


and light. And those who

remain: the thunders in them,


the brightened sapphires

of the young ones’ eyes.


The mint that separates

and then the moving, the ice.





Instructions for Loyal 


Leave off indigo, cut sun, & spades.

No mind to vulgarity & wile. Yellow,


float to grass. Leap out the boom

ravine & head to the lee. Give off your


old pieties, dangerous as owl pellets

& take on the easily of the labrador.


Yellow, take on gust & gamine,

covet mahogany & an anatomy’s


technique. Fall to wind. Leave off your

lights that burn into the countryside.