It’s been suggested by the New Radicals
in America that perhaps the best, no,
the penultimate act would be, of all things,

It’s morning; you are six 
Impatient to be off 
In the clear cold light 

It’s been suggested by the New Radicals
in America that perhaps the best, no,
the penultimate act would be, of all things,

Fingering the tourmaline amulet
strung around her neck, she hopes to channel
a “plasma”—ethereal and healing—
that might resuscitate her blood. Doctors,

You knew how things open,
a flower, a jail, an eye
and at the very last, a hand.

’Tis I Master, Francesco, come
to awaken you for noon refreshment.
See how he sleeps; as easily

The Lord wants me to go to Florida.
I shall cross the border with the mercury thieves,
as foretold in the faxes and prophecies,

When I feel the old thirst coming on
I think of my great-great-aunts,
the farmer’s disappointments, adorning

The world could see his share of light was spent.
The hearts in his cafe were mostly warm,
but had to speak to make it evident

ROCKVILLE,    Md.,    Oct.    23-5:45    A.M.
A    thirteen-year-old    at    883    Post    Oak    Road
(who    wishes    to    remain    anonymous)    began