Dogs Bleeding Into Morning

he sits at the piano like stapes before incus keys to malleus open casket
here between the chimes of morning and the tolling bells of night
the music too precise, too intricate, too true
the hackles of his audience rise
a blooded new void in every wide white eye


Islands like flypecks on milky scratched plexi
cyclone whorl and galloping herds aplenty
a blackboard on the floor
give a letter and mock up a name
this cold thin broth will swallow every fly
in time their remains snow down
to slow dance among the crabs


every new door could open and no gate is closed
take your bars and grates and tie them into bows
with a flick of the wrist twist to wasps and centipedes
release with no thought and receive
light is a reflex and we are all collapsing stars