A man in our office is really a dog. He does not do well, is slow and clumsy though extremely good-natured. 

On the 17th day, Noah's wife went to the window
and saw only water and knew the world was lost.

On the 20th day, Noah's wife went to the window

 

    She stands over a fish, thinking about certain irrevocable mistakes she has made today. Now the fish has been cooked, and she is alone with it. 

Never before such a distant season of derision. 
Across town, the silo siren heralds an encore to panic. 

I will not, though I would, resolve,
As the New Year’s Eve comes on,
To do, not do, review, revolve

The season's first few leaves fall.
A zoo is loosed in the grass.

Mourning is in the molecules, gravity

Corridors of the city
End in a deer’s eye.
The deer stumbles among legs

In my home we take turns with the remote
and whoever's turn it is calls the show.

Rule two: a change of turn must occur

Winter antelopes into erstwhile
   dogmas committed against an ivory
         cane, and three ducats of pilsner

Reader unmov'd and Reader unshaken. Reader unsedc'd
and unterrified, through the long-loud and the sweet-still
I creep toward you. Toward you, I thistle and I climb.