The Brooklyn Rail

After all the threaded bones
   sculpted in tear light laid
all that voice
   to rest
adept monotones
   configured our release

The party is over
   but there’s another one
tomorrow and you can
   come w/ dog at 11
when the campfire begins
   and it’s choices time

It’s quite possible
   the mirrors are alarmed
or at lease bugged
   by tall and silver elm
focused out on light
   between the traces

Your photographs
   of where we are
tend to be enigmas
   locations’ distance emblem
requesting frame
   for shattering