smooth now, that rough magic
periscopic tragic midnight lookout

pale arms out arctic like an exiled
penguin into the nameless city

coping, cold, gauze in a sand storm
laron flicker in the mighty dust

a turning ember, hot
spark-caught, gold-litter

in the spider web
spanning a rattan lamp shade

my one fish, two fish
her peacock greenish-black or blue

the switch, dangling
sarcophagus

so dead; quothe the neon miracle
off-gassing meatlight; or Lalah

pink, with only enough instinct
to kill and never eat, my baby, yes;

deveining ribbons in the snow, scrubbed
scrubbing, awash in the darkroom; or

backstage, up rusty rungs, like icicles; blanket
of rags, pocket of candy-wrapped pills; she goes

like gamelan trancing crickets at the cross
by tilem, smoke of incense over the sawah

//