Passage of day over the title on
a brittle page
Someone tore up a
greatest hits of Zen earlier
that year
Your spine bolts after
a windborne ticket
Where else could you be
Not the desert of whisky but of
whisky's prehistory
Distilling the sex act from a codex
Amnesia pressed like specimen
between yourself and your killers
glance over a name in stone
The page a sheet of light