Skin of snow on the sky. “I like little chairs”

Wool to snowflakes to wool. Fear in the red flower

“The tongue is not pink but demonic.

It is demonic

and it’s bigger than me.”

Now at the time of the stopping of the sun:

leaves, some blowing, same glittering, some

junipers

Cinematography is alchemy, and the cake is waiting, and the light is

blinding, the boy swimming. Alice on the slide

through and through and

through

(for Tomaž Šalamun, with some words from Wallace Stevens)