the daft curly landlord
clapping to chase
profusions
of—avid and stickthin
leftover finches
wildly
away from a
crooked tidbit of property—
a shriveling autumn
sketch of
a crabapple tree—light
on leaves
and—anyway
bereft
of almost all curios—
gently
eases the ache
in your head
by ordaining
it—nothing personal.
