Donald Dunbar
[the garden of life and]
- the garbled geranium, the garbled ecstasy, the garbled eric,
- when his brains will tell us only about a bullet
- mining various states of heaven across open fields
- or forgetting myself to follow the memory
- with a hundred million white suns strips the atmosphere
- and as that sound rots
- one [ ] two [ , ] three [ . ]
- insect trust yourself to land in my ear