Wind from the last of Hurricane Lil knocks off
the dogwood leaves til there are few, or none.
Rain soaks my dreams: bears in the ruined choirs
Napoleon, poignant, besieges 40 days & nights
the bears in his dreams are wearing tights
and heavy armor     over the 12 gates, candled fire
& the priestess     phosphorous glow-worm of the black sun
keens a long E in glottal reverse     a cyrillic raven
squares up the Mayday precinct with a (cough) sacral puff

Meanwhile     sweet birds, Will     sing late
untouchable & second-best, always     in your last will and
testicles     and the doomed lambs of heaven
are everywhere, on hillside and on streets, if you will: the
tenant's stray flocks, unmoved by the remover's     joker's fate

Henry Gould | Island Road 7
Contents | Mudlark No. 6