not subject to bouts
ze keeps a level tone
doesn’t make out with the aesthetician against the
clapboard of your seaside rental in the last light of Midsummer
ze knows a woman who fixes syntax
concerned with wings in your hair
ze makes supper as your face
pays a street urchin for an empty box
ze doesn’t circle a table of old men
looking for bread and
when ze says it, ze means it
shoulders toward the sea