By Nate
Quick Walk to Figure Out Everything Each boxwood shrub and stoop gnome, check dazed like us and glistening Low mousy light of a droneless sky musk of steam off the kettle bog, check between these soundless rains No stone cried out in my direction No tongue of flame fluttered then came to rest Yesterday the neighbors picnicked in their own patchy yard, right near the street Esme repeating Assis, petit whenever their toddler son sputniked towards the sidewalk She couldn’t speak without losing her breath when we first moved in next door When I realized you knew what you wanted he was just holding up his head
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Klug
