More than a minute and twenty eight seconds after
the moment when decisions became derisions, the
bath tempo temporarily interrupted the trail to let
paleness fret and fret and get going down the drain.
What if these were the words? What if birds were
all humming, red, and winged? How many times
can time drip down the sewer? Introductions spill
into downstairs lairs. Reach, reach, reach, reach.
Tomorrow's sorrows borrow regrets from memory.
Pouncing back from the front door, ceramic, cracked,
claw-foot sprouts. Contemporary. Unfocused. Groused.
Mice de-louse their shelves, and become read cheese.
A spider named Conspire with another novelty keyring.
Inboxes filled past the grim, brimming with astonishments,
containing abolishes. Wriggling pickles. Another storm of
cucumbers demanding to be watered rather than brined.
Roman Ryan 