It makes me sore at the easiness

of being flicked into this griseous city

that sees you as a jerk

buying a Coke,

sweeping the house,

plating dinner

like a bag of bones

not taking to the earth.

A broke-up satellite,

the graceful crème fraîche morning

totes a mouthful of lonely.

Forget claiming the sky      (downsize)

Forget climbing the sky      (capsize)

A goner no sooner

than the underbelly

of my mirrored shape

misses every deep thing.

The snow pedaling my anatomy,

a quiet penumbra

shaking the breeze

off a window.