We all know where we will be a hundred years from now:
beyond the dailiness of this slow panic
and the fear always present behind the look of denial;

When I see a man
in a dress shirt, I want
to walk up behind him,

When I was a child 
I brushed as a child
which is to say often 

District of tenements, squat brick laundries,
warehouses with shoulders like boxers’,
and one shop that sells ancient maps,

The world is your lawyer.
Pawn-shop pearls.
Hair like telegraph wire.

You and I, when we sleep, we’re like whales
because fish swim out of my mouth
and you dishevel the seaweed.

Whoso list to hunt it with a camera?
The Carolina parrot is extinct.
Hunted to nothing emerald.

Obviously, it’s a category I’ve been made aware of
        from time to time.

That rusting water tower collapsing
on its ruin was the movie theater
where you sat in smoky consternation

If a lone feather fell from the sky,
like a paper plane wafting down
from a tree house where a quiet boy