Calmly clouded Tuesday.
The chateau is closed.
Nothing glitters.

A child walks by,
clutching in its small hand 
the blueprint of happiness. 

Why are the hubcaps in the kitchen sink?
I’m having dinner guests, it’s as
simple as that. My organizational

I wish my head to appear perfectly round 
and since the canvas should be of epic dimensions, 
please trace the circle with a frisbee, 

ou never get to play it, the rackets
Are always missing or else the net’s dissolved
During the winter, and there are mole holes

My Dalmation yearns to speak to me this morning.
She is more-than-elegant in her sleek musculature—
demure, nubile, oddly cat-like before breakfast.

I was sent to my room to think things over
So I sat with white dog
On a ledge

I

they have no gathering places
        for taking of council nor
agreements

I get on
the racket bus,
and see one empty seat

“He picked up
a bee!”
is what