Why the surprise. Why joy
or any of the enthusiasms
I can’t suppress.

His mind is a silent suburb at dusk
the moment just before
streetlights flicker on,

The people all crowded in the hall.
They wondered what the poet would look like
(none of them had ever seen the poet before).

His intentions remained secret
Among the vociferous others who posted
Imprecations in the church’s chat room, drawing

The leaves are curled like fingers from which the wrist
Is broken. The X-rayed wrist in four parts, with a
                                                                                        triangular island

Seven cliffs of alabaster
Sisters overlook
England’s finest downs.

Despite one querulous, raised paw,
the ermine is being held. I am not.
Unseemly, it claws

Cold starts with the sun gone down
warming up at early dawn

Overcast at break of day

All this rain in the place where it rarely rains.
Eyes trained on the sky as if for smoke,
as if for news of the next doddering pope.

The morning flew by.
Not that it matters, it’s nothing
like flying, or finding a dime behind a cushion,