What did I feel?
Lying there
Lying to them
Flattened
By their lies
Above me
Heads in motion
Cool rising
From painted stone walls
rows of canned peaches
left eye
Swelling
soaring
Over prone form
There is an attic
Where nobody goes
plastic-covered uniforms
To crouch behind
Dust-coated theology
Hexagon panes
That nullify the swinging bulb
And make the floaters sparkle
A spy perch
A clawed soaking tub
loose hardwood concealing
chocolate
coins
Confessions
I climb
just fitting
Inside the high cupboard
Scaling
The bow-roofed
Fence abutting shed
You harp on found objects
Me and Caddy Compson
Petting severed ponytails
Descending the trellis
Mourning for drowned kittens
Drowning too
