rain drips from the eaves
a vine flowers, seed spreads
the chores I perform over & over
get dressed brush teeth wash dishes make bed
salvage give shelter hide hold
a center is of no use
adam, then eve — a gender theory
deep roots, a strangling vine
move along, move along as if it matters
I would be pleased not to feel guilty
I would rather not leave the chair
sat upon, cats upon
a third cat glides toward us
messenger angel
don’t pretend you can throw something away
& forget about it
anyone who puts a controlling hand on anyone
should stop
daisy . . . day’s eye
the rate of rain dropping from the eaves
a poem a net of words
thunder, silence, green
air a web the rain weaves through
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