Cutting through a machine will leave its wails the animal beyond moon.
The glimpse of hay or insect. Motion. Milkless. Dying.
The bell didst holler you responding. I’m not home not home responding.
Earth ran red to feet. Housing bodies. Earthly casing.
What the cows brought. How the structures stood. How the sounds conjoined.
Bushels. Sweetened grass. The horse broke loose late morning. Unexpectedly.
The story replicating.
They are telling me it’s time to go the carriage set upon the snow to go to go they wail so the white snow falls onto the white snow the lantern dims the dark carriage the wheels the window the light of the eye the horse the carriage the lantern alit the skin glistens goodbye—
we are leaving
To fall to that place of no return and then to return. So quickly!
White flag snaps. The frame and its contents aware. These other
chapters long ago, frayed. The bed is a wave. Distilled fear, its foul-
Petting, the horse or dog of her ensued petting, she the animal grew a pet not wild and pet he did she was in the basket she shielded the sun she internalized the sun she was the sun-dog, in her basket she took space, petting willfully wistfully, he scratched her ears she was envisioned in this a coat a coat, she wanted the cool blanket, the coat, no not the coat, a material shelter to be proud she not knowing this attachment to her mind What owns this body is this how I reentered?
And inside the great wind blew yes father it did
In the state no finding the home of which you left
When the telephone rings and that we shall bear oh bring it not the bell
Her house went heavy it did and that became the thought right before the end
That the house would go heavy
The windows gone out to dry
To this we shall not drink nor promise that we know the right ways
The path is not a path
Guilt and other small planets colliding
Still an individual not to be frugal with this sentiment
Wind is exiting with its motored hum
If the morning’s here show us light