4 march

[more tens:]

A touch on the audio screen and one

harsh word brings the whole evening

crashing down. I've been on edge,

you've been on edge, she's been

on edge – conjugation of inevitable

verb. The mystery of the lost meter,

to be rendered moot when the sea

percolates up through the limestone

and erases all our mistakes. Both

entrances blocked. Drive trains.

                  ***

The natural posture is upright. Natural

position. Problem of the "natural." I toss

and turn, every night, to get you closer.

We run, where in sunlight or rain,

to stand still. This damned—another—

book. Pieces, bite. Shards. How do

"ew" vowels evolve: my father pronounced

it "strown"? Towards the end, he

couldn't live in comfort, slept propped

up with a finger on the morphine trigger.

                  ***

The dream of great icicles fallen, smashed

on the sidewalk. Not on her, impaling

or crushing, but she herself shattered.

The Church retreating, the license

plates "Christian." This night suspends

water, hums with stone. I see only

from machines. Signs at the foot

of Trümmelbachfälle, the fatal

dangers of drinking one's water

too cold. Ammonia through the ceiling.