Telephone poles
                                     thrown in stitches
across the never-ending blanket
                                                 -- that you stopped following somewhere
after an indie rock concert. The pattern that gavels crusades
                                                               on segmented streets--loss balance
                        bookshelves. Times when tongue-tied families test the lengths
                                                                                                      of rapture and abundance,
            both mouths tired and one eye black--a sock monster. A dog outside barking
                                                                              and lists,
                                                                              and lists,
                                                                              and lists,
                                                                              and so on.
                     All this while you watch the tide fall and rise.