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Mom, why is your closet lined with shells? — Line them on the close it floor, son. 43 6. Uncle arrived in spring. He arrived with wooden boats carved from teak. He taught us about the Nina, his Pinto and the Santa Maria. It was spring, progress was happening. ■ Father chainsawed the willow into a stump. The new rose bushes girdled the stump. We marked the edges of the plot with a rake, erected a small fence around it. — Don’t worry about those rots. We’ll build around them. 7. When he was younger, he let go of a helium balloon.

I wish I could conceal you, but Johnny’s apple seed is spitting out other little seeds perhaps to dig, dug, shrug. O I’m sorry to disturb your busy life. I live on the edge of your ear. I’m a little speckle that broods on your pancakes — the burnt ash. My friend is a lawyer and a poet. He was the disappearance of a poem, even as he screamed. Beam him up, Scotty. My friend is a sister, although she confesses to other relations that need to be made clear. This is clear. She lives between a lamb 46 and a lamp.

White solo: empty guitar case with a layer of snow. In her apartment, there is one room unreserved for white mounting itself. To sit on the window ledge. To squawk and shit on black umbrellas. Consider the ledge collapsing the moment it is conceived, one syllable falls faint on the snow. She attempts the word. The walls flutter around like drapes. The sentence, snowy, clean, and her thoughts, flies swarming in the eyes of a stern preceptor. A perpetual aftermath of something untouched. The snowy owl unfurls its wings, swoops down on the field mouse.