in this July             world
in this summer country

an          ambergris ikon
set upon     some scrub
jay’s
                                   back
the plinth a spirit        of
black                       stone
one is              columned
one                    set apart

through the           mask
through              the lens
wonderment—            a
one upon, a one atoned
steely and garish an em
and                     a banner

called when cathar rage
accounted                    for

opened          embrasure
a             time             tent
acknowledged,        ante
bellum                  a numb
it’s       swoon   I
swear
                                    soon
oh swallow,       oh crypt
how can you       count it
how come            it can’t
count
so abrupt  some settled
it’s soon         to see and
and               uncensored
under the  belt a known
command,       a nightjar
open                  mouthed