Tuesday, April 12, 2022


All at once, 
in assault from 

comes the shrill, 
punchy call of free-
migrating geese—

ricocheting off 
our asphalt, 
our high shelves of glass, 

and our citywide 
armories of bright- 
angled brick. 

This might be 
what Taps 
would sound like 

were it blared 
at mid-day 
by amnesiac buglers:

the giddy death knell
of this rough-
drafted morning—

of today's 
first, unpolished 
idea of itself.