Warbler

I will remember you when the warblers return...

Elsa in Rotterdam

Elsa said the tanks never frightened her...

They will be taken aback by the paucity of socks and the profligate spoons...

There should be rage beneath the welcome mat, rage in the yellow windows, rage on the roof...

Take all I am as yours, a meager thing and ancient...

Have I forgotten how I stepped from the palms of the old gods...

if i could make a tool or a song of all that is dead in me...

The body, lattice that it is permits a breath of eons...

I would sing those songs but why...

The prints, domestic and brand-name, plodding the same diligent course...