All Roof No House
Calling back my dead to sheds in
Stately yards the cut’s still fresh
No one would think to resurrect
My theft downs dawn & cinders
Like his eyes comport my beams
In you my time will be yr labor
No sky opens living meshes shiver
Trees go dead the dead go dig
- ing down my body’s conquered
High above yr head they hang no
Eyes compost his beams in mine
Remains still air inters whatever
- ’s real evicts no place to posit
Still ash waste & consequence
Whose hollowed mouths my in
- sides sing it out to you as if
To vomit this I am
— only I when you cut here.
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