87


north Lynn Duende


I have dusted the stuffed weasel
& placed it in a sunlit niche
tinged submarine by stained glass
made with patience & the urine
of prepubescent redheads
in centuries & minutes gone by
even the O.M. is sleeping
rocked in whispering sea-green dreams
spasm of tangible absence
rose & broken into cold song





Norfolk         April 2010