the milkman’s apprentice begins to heave
noise up from the road & this must
be the beginning there
are all sorts of
enemies & underlings

& mine will make liverwurst
out of us

your job is numerous more
roads but whitened with
chalk

&
I’ll collect you
backwards until the rain pulls your

coat open

tumbled laundry scents accumulate
in the children’s

guessing & their guessing gets sharper
some green stars

have lit up the
pond with their cold burning

what yields a child’s
search for a dancehall
with huge
aluminum ceilings
& an old water closet

a convex mirror in
the great entry
ghosts in the red
liquor

we are
reared
in the

sheepish sounds
of christmas foot-traffic
our breathing split like
a peach

even booze
won’t slow us down the
way our
construction will

what
copies out your
battles for you?
what color hands did you have

in the snow?