a snowdrop�s dew drop
splinters into a thousand bells
and the thousand ears that hear it
rest on six legs or a thousand �
millipedes low down
closest to earthen heartbeats

she wipes the wine glass
inside out, forgetting fragility,
gashed by half a vessel,
the half now holding a bit of life
she can do without

listen, listen � the rush of a solar flare
explodes in green auroras
� all asleep, asleep �
who�s left to see but the pizza man
on the doorsteps of drunks

abandon your head for a pumpkin
and ride the winged horse, tilt your head
toward Arcturus, Guardian of the Bear

give in, look down,
count the crisscrosses
of laces that hold tight
your shoe