there’s but one bunny on my lawn
unless, there are multitudes
in the dense stand
of Caragana shrubs
and they take turns appearing

on occasion
there are two bunnies,
one chasing the other

Walt Whitman must certainly
have noticed such goings on
and been inspired to exclaim
“I contain multitudes”

I don’t think he meant
multitudes of bunnies
how could anyone contain
a multitude of bunnies
but a bunny might have been
one of his multitudes

as mine is one of mine
patiently waiting his or her
turn at the sweet grasses
or their time of
him chasing her
or is it her chasing him?

that night I dreamt
one of the bunnies became
the goddess of Wushan

clouds and rain
again and again,
and I, chasing, chasing

the priest moves his bowels with a traveler’s prayer

foxholes in the long driveway, I put myself through corn liquor and Faulkner for her

forced visit to dad’s side of the family,
huddled close to the mad uncle
and the scarlet sassafras leaves

Pertinence or is it the impertinence of sparrows to flitter and litter around  our tiny worlds – revolving around fat balls wingtips beakfuls – killing cock robin – i am the sparrow no I am the sparrow – Keats the poet declaring if one come here by my window I take part in its existence – pick about the gravel – gravel it rhymes with unravel – picking up the threads of their vie en rose spell…

Never quite what you think it is…to be… or not to be aware of what is right there on the verge … not a kid on their first school day …but a tug of war … a line is hauling in between  …two humanoids …an installation …vans and barriers …only connect … me to… me too …it is beyond..

Which is more of a sentence to scream the shorter nights of infernal heat or the longest nocturnal knell of a hell hole all are deep deep circles in the python pit of Hades where they wrap themselves around you snake after snake in the coil pot of doom where the clay will  never ever hoop itself out even when the aperture is beyond the mightiest microscope no hope in this hellhole hellhole hellhole …

I delete the weather app
then look outside
as if inventing rain

the hallway bulb flickers
and every door briefly
belongs to another century

Why did I pitch the rock? I picked it up, and I tested its weight. I knew that there was something inside, and I knew that that something was you. I felt a strong aversion, and I felt the urgent need to pitch it, to get you (rock) as far away from me as possible. That’s why I pitched the rock.