The empty tin can old man trash

the barren sad refrigerator,

a weakness in the verbs & an

all-too-easy fondness for escape.

*

It’s time to match the bird calls

to the memory of the birds.  It’s

hard to believe you once thought

any of it mattered, hid meaning,

*

among all the things you can no

longer swallow   Beer caps rolling

out of sight and into the past—her

name erased along with all the gods.