said the lamb

The Quiet

is a blind house.

[note to self ]


/// slats of grass ///

where calves shruggle

to nose it. I nose it too but

only, only as drags my lookout

up the drive. Homeswhere

I have some hard

salami & string cheese, pleased to be

so settled & groan: done in

original French, then frozen so

later can later on paint the fur

and lay her in a manager.

tah dah said the lamb wrapped in lambswool

whose shoulders slump to see the news.

That’s the last time I promise not to. 


Slow goes Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, & Deuteronomy.
Slow goes old Tom Waits.
How this token city of things becomes us, how sweet and fat the cat.

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