when you force a laugh
and silence pushes back at you
like a wave against a wall
hang up something shiny
when you stride across the room in slippers
draw energy like a black hole
please don’t get too close to me
hang up something noisy
I wonder at the mutation
that brings you into my company
there are wolves at the door, you say,
a bear is knocking and wants to come in
the crows multiply their excuses
and deer lurch and gambol
in opposing directions
hang up a plastic owl
there is black water and blather
and black money flowing
behind your black back
speaking to crows
just outside my door
cawing crosses an ocean,
a generation,
crosses back,
back into this gap
ecliptic,
that neither sun nor moon can explain
