on spider nights

ON spider nights in the sclimb limb lash there
site sits underamor slimming fixing filled and warn with
crass unmade the thunder blade slips back slips tracks
gurneyed folding and fetching with astringent folds
wishfully and watching and cracked with sniplength follows
and fetches
flicked and formed with ardent form anananzi anasazi
man or stone

Gone by then

In the mirror at Halsted and Diversey there slumps a striped shade lamp, and
though i cannot work out which quadrant of the canvassed street it
lies in, I creep closer each morning.

On Tuesday mornings, the coroners advise me of the futility of my search. Of the
striped shade mirror-lamp they say there is simply no evidence of life.
I remark on the
craven nature of their afterlifeless commentary, and they stumble
into the mirror's cracks
on Halsted and Diversey

Perhaps the sidewalk is hiding my lamp shade striped mirror in the strips of
caulk filling the cracks and preventing winter freeze and thaw from
shattering the concrete by my mirror

but, on Wednesday afternoons I find crippled ex-linemen lined with age and
linen shirted sons and daughters wheeling and walking to the steak house and
remembering

But they cannot properly manage it. In the slipstream of traffic another
motorcycle skids to a stop and, in the Mirror on Halsted and Diversey I notice
the shade lamp stripe has submerged itself in some darkened cranny and finally
has vanished

I am confident, that on Thursday evening another walker will be baffled in some similar way. But I will be gone by then.