When you think of white do you think of Rembrandt in darkness pockmarked a sieve or a monkfish Ahead now ahead then: ash scrub pine shade and Penny –– then twelve then my brother’s sole friend
Underneath the electric microscope frass gathered like a word no one could pronounce, or something children left in a cage. Sugar ants were gorging on the corpse of a cicada next to the front door. Soon four golden mounds were theirs, to carry back in their lemony bellies to the queen. I have a box of nine suns set on spikes, a pair of gray bags concealing speakers. I am your teacher, said the teacher, alone in a room. If there is a predicate to this.