3 from: Atlas Peripatetic

42

the flurry of birdsong and a whipping of marks      that grow louder and more precise      stronger and more exact the invisible choir of throat and basin with the gust of the song of the bird      the choir of the throat of the bird      the choir of birdthroat and beaks camouflaged in the foliage of ficus microcarpa     Indian Laurel Fig      the flock of birds in proportion      to the flurry songs of bird to the troop of birds and the straw fire of song 75      blind transfer                    of air over the                       spine     but first                                   the vert stalls  in the mini-           air     grinding air      on the extension                        in the fish eye                 view of the stucco                   wall ride you kick         grab and grind                 50-50 in this backside air     front-                  side air     head                     planted     ass planted                       and transferred                to wall ride stalled                      bench —it was a fluke         the reverse hoop                  in the alley     grinding                                       plates to a toe-             stop, the death                     of a kiss— two feet     one foot        grab     stall     plant head                bail      watch me               hurt myself     not                                      quite     but I love                                          my helmet                             and sometimes                   the wheel bites back 121 bird very close feathers forelimbs hollow bones very close these beaks without teeth brushing away particles very close for the cloacal kiss in less than a second breath traveling in one direction oxygen the same inside as out these passerines these song birds these perching birds so close I can touch them through the tangle of leaves through the thicket of green through the singing tree through the warm blood

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