I
the brainless birch trees will wave at anybody at all, even a sad cat

II
these old navy pants hold up worse than the avengers viewed a second time

III
on a saw horse in an empty field a mouth guard suns

IV
in the bright office a snorted laugh somewhere, stone through the water

V
in the hangman’s house a dog looks at a noose and thinks “a nice leash”

VI
a pier kneels in the pond—time crumbles it like greek cheese, like the avengers

VII
the moon in daytime whistles, hands in its pockets—thinks we won’t notice

VIII
when I finished the book it had become a machine for making ghosts

IX
the happy Baby squirms—a fish from the dark strong on the hook of Being

X
drink from an empty glass you think is full instead of re-watching the avengers