Baking Bread in Winter

i.      a swan     late flying calypso     beckoning when most unyielding      lucky sevens     in that house     built up hills     uneven and relieving     “the word you want is grace”      again with clocks     and sunswept bastions     borders     home as cold as cold is often      the lake always     sunken cutters out of sunlight     ideas of angels     appealingly so     when drunk out to beyond      or is it     recognition     what mirrors fear     six cups white     what grace does consider      late to all beckoners     which     belies and leaves     behind borders     a view of water     all so cold      sleeping dogs     untellable truths     which home is another circle     this time eggs ii.      what place is     “lots of fun for everyone”     yellowed quilts to telegraph     age     or poverty     a paring knife      carefully cutting     is summer nearly     or crows on 112 useless in rain     “you will not need the crusts”      or mail     pursuing rivers     sleep or else     music the mist of “this is what you do”      found harmonics     vest torn to shit     skeletal longitudes nations past where     shoes what place      is this     now     a roiled brook     ever falling trees hollering frogs all     evening the sea      “all these pancakes”      becoming quite thick     whose sunflowers     did not ever give me any     in that gone summer iii.      “i try and try but i keep getting no luck”      “everything is mixed very well”     retail shops unidentified     stifled so      “be very careful”     a beer a bear beyond     a shoulder not a cavern     or candle     when inserted     “comes out clean”      seen from time to time     “no description available” bracken is the lost     the moon is to trout     not new at all      or else broken     alongside toys     “sift this all together” address or do not     the accident     there      is getting there     bread as beads     as maps     notes “lost is lost always”     and then iv.      swan     to all calypsos     snow refracted up     to bent as herons     lifting wing      at night     dismal alerts     in 1973     on gravel driveways lost kisses lost hope     all lost      all interior     towards meaning     wooden floorboards promptly a legacy     potential recipes     and you      your “wisdom of deuce”     form “less so always”     as fonts before a storm     grace the new line     making old love

 
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