#615 - out my window

 

8.ix.21

615

2.250

out my window 

 

world and day

 

eyes cast

 

as if you could trace what’s there

face to the pane and blow

call it an inscription

winter by finger

 

all of the past has expired

 

it’s like inside of a television

how the birds sing there

 

a breeze

and the whole of the human race

 

we say things out the window

but which of them will hear?

 

it’s like the stitching on the other side

if we were there, we’d know

 

baroque out past

trill, flutter

 

such loves where have lost

take off specs and let blur

much to measure

 

fiddle of sun

time’s about

all the instruments of luck

chords struck

 

sudden clouds and slow

work ethic has been ditched

what we’ve called evolution goes on

we don’t even know what it is

(consists though largely of extinctions)

 

somebody’s country is out the window

a catalogue of failures

 

roofs forever

hidden chimneys

branches to leaf through

trees stand up for themselves

 

the warming!

(plague distracts from plague)

 

tigers fight eels on a level field

how can that be fair?

 

sirens and picnics

mainly solo, indoors

(other interiors are windowed, walled)

someone’s cute un-belled hearth cat

is killing the fauna

 

there is a stretch of legs beyond

screens to keep out insects  

 

one universe and maybe more

 

the abattoirs, the fisheries

chickens who’ll never cross the road

 

an empire is rising like bread

another is served up cold

 

glass flows slowly

that’s the river we’re in

 

most creatures make themselves unseen

this is the safest way