Ghosts have always enraged the living
by their manner of sleeping, for example:
not a snore, not a cry of terror,
legs in Alabama, head on Hokkaido,
sleepwalking out of the question too,
indifferent whether you find them
boring or not, bombastic and lazy in the extreme,
careless about their rotten limbs,
they ruminate our words, bullets and knives
just like the League of Liberated Cows.

{from the comments on cease}


Dead raccoons will
never gather on my patch of lawn,
lighthearted and easygoing. Perhaps it’s Sunday
and flies are the same color as skies.
Monuments to famous frogs crumble under the snow.
Time to pick up the shreds of disoriented souls
before they unlearn to kiss.