at night, north by northeast
a drone hums
or an airplane waiting to land
why can’t I see it on the radar?
dusk comes loud
with everyone singing
dissonance is the truth about harmony
or something
will recognition always feel like grief
I told the man that I loved the story
that
smells of aniseed or dead rabbit
the brush under there
pat
tie
kill
find
sip
this
dull
sketch
bat
die
game
vain
measure
thy
fine
edge
I loved the story the man told me
so much I stopped listening
though I felt every syllable
wandering through grass (ornamental)
I’m here
what
over here
where
over here
trip on stone
collapse in the overgrowth
orb weaver spins between two dead branches
I can’t tell you what catches
my fists abraded
shot
put
up
on
card
sharp
cut
deck
stack
bottom
up
second
false
scent
scant
thought
stolen
through
borrowed
time
displacement makes the soil dirt
the earth puts me back
how
the hours split in two
trick
trait
duped
gull
strip
grass
build
berm
lead
lead
turn
ditch
field
balk
slip
shod
Miri Karraker
Miri Karraker lives and works in Minneapolis.