this bat is named
do not kill pets
when the food goes away
what do you have
what
will you take
hunting a shape-shifting
road sign
from the doorframe
creaking
in the mountains
which cancel
the seas
the lakes
cancelled
by the hills
trees
by roots
birds
by slugs
imagine
the third person
over there
in a cage
the cage
cancelled
by the surround
that person
cancelled by
imagine
the second person
and that person
by the
first person
cancelled by
imagine
the null person
we were a small stone cottage
at a gate
having our signs defaced
by twelve men in hunting livery
rat-catcher attire
then we were the spray paint
amending the tolls
the fines
then we were the ladder they were using
then their shoes
those hands
drape your shoulders
like bags of blood
the arm
broken
at the elbow
reaching out
elsewhere, children torn to donkeys
or in a still life
being made to sit
for five years
still debt agencies hunt
these people
touch the problem
then jump
into the
swamp
to get
something obscure
at one level
as a relation
embodied
practiced
honed
isolated events
in a prism
a point of view
fearful wings
control
the agency of the object
asked
to rationalize itself
it flips out
the window
no admittance
but a break
for emergency
access
only
to undo
the great injury
of now
not with
agility but
slow and brute force
the prime mover
in all its regalia
here it is
simply moveable
like a squeeze of the
wrist
just never leave me
no pulse
and the crawling
to resist
an ulcer
to tonic sheets of brined skin
and sure they are
moving fast
me to them
them to me
to avoid being food
there is no such thing as a city
of the immortals
there are no immortals
but goons in balaclavas
heavies
with a British van
outside 34 North Frederick Street
the occupants, torn
thread to thread
tendon to sinew
owning
is the application of angle grinders
they flit between empty houses
and electron-fizz
in the dusk
in the dusk
