Aping snow tracks, I under-step; someone’s perfect footprints now sullied wine by paper cup, two-steps in the mirror make lonely bacchanal tires slipping, engine snarling, these impossible streets decide my fate headlights, headlights, rush on me, on me until there’s nowhere to hide but . . . staggerers loping through the snow, stopping to collect [...]

ten worlds of clouds, as I blink my eyes, unfold on twenty worlds of sky each swishing pant leg keeps mosquitoes away from my sweaty ankles hot pavement below hot sky above, even my sunglasses bleed sun

here comes a quorum; litanies of approvals: consideration softer bellies in striped polos and flower prints pulse to central air noon heat outside. winds tickle tree tops like fiery blue feather dusters

as I type this, a borrowed keyboard lightly clocks digital foot prints paper on my floor heaps of scraps across my desk: order does not here cracked spine of a [self- published] book rests on pages, weight and paper clips