Morning Weekday Sky Cornea

from skate-rink pink to ballroom blue to

post-revolution ashen heft : I survive to see

such things to press my heel to wood girl, girl

today’s list of broken things lengthens: lamp, switch, door,

knee, nipple, neighborhood. Today’s silty

store of what refuses to dissolve : love, lying shit

of a president, child-spring. Clouds now

fictional in the back of mind’s memory

I’m losing it, like my mother did,

cause the first time I say the thing

will never be the last. Today’s list of forgotten words,

talus and crypt      and a word for what binds

so tirelessly the five of us

to our mouth-sounds sliding upward

through stairwell’s gloom

Pure foam, pure air, pure caw

pure gaze : gray gaze, or green, or that

sweet brown & that blue

they bloom and also shine and see across the room

wet with the body’s terminable

water