in your village, j,
sun
radishes in the garden
reading poverty fireside
distilling eau de vie
clear
colorless
politics
you are in the middle j
tenth letter prose
closed earth
secure
"a" has a half thumb, clawed,
broken fingers
missing earlobes
he wanders the dark
afraid of girls on bikes
he doesn't know
Panegoosho
Keats
beauty is truth he said
half dead
his alcohol cheap
"a" begins each infinity
large and small
sleepless
afraid
he's an artist too
like you
a minotaur
in europa
