The television screen
deguassed The pallor
of the sheen off the
marble obscene bust
Prepared for all the
corrective lenses on
the old machining table
just so—prepared.
The piles of this tree's
detritus They correlate
the sight has sent a
fright into us So
the small tree's seed
spilt around the deck
lavishly and we fight
But the stuff ends up
drowning us
