from Meanwhile (a Movement Missive Series)

Fairhazel Gardens,

I am under the chair. See half a monarch wing in the dustbin. Backyard vixen squalled all night to her cubs. No need to look outside, but I did. Red apple with a broken neck. Every word is an unnecessary stain. Take back your eyes. Remove an ant from your arm without snuff. I am under the phone book which is under the wheel. I’m in an earth, call-less.


Dutch Flat