Ghazal
You are gone. Everywhere
persons are breathing.
The ditch arrives in memories of snow,
car-broken.
A strong accent attenuates
mistakes.
An ankle of ice pops
in its cage.
The suffocation-bag O:
the home-let form.
The gooning shrubs give up
their line for winter.
My drained face passes itself,
boils.
The inspirational fire-starter
inspires panic.
Sardanapalus
to begin at the first sight
of plastic clothes
as serious as a police action
but not a war, so
a distance a still kernel
bruises over flesh
chasing from wind
to Turkish steam
your name here
inhospitable, keep
low
if only you were
if only, a condition
SAR
DAN
APA
LUS
to go left
like the right handed
a soft life in the imperial city
is soft enough
the stark gates press
their nubian halo
I do not speak to her in
then, in writing
as passing time the bees
are calmed in smoke
how to avoid capture
by suicide