In the cold

lots of

            child

                      hood

                      memory balks with

in it

           self, float

                                      ing

on wind

                blown but

                                      tresses

                im

                         print of lip

                                               stick on fauntleroy

                                              collars

frozen               cold               these lots lack

even                  brown            squoosh

of grass

                        hopper

                                              wing

dustdustdust spira

lling con

                 cord of

                               in

                                      con

                                                gru

ities

           ic

                 y

                      pools (white)

                                             re

                      flect (blank) black

                                         ness

cold

            child

                       hood lots a

                       swirl with silt

of win

               dow ledg

                                 es

fune

             lling far

off to un

                  shaped

                                  planets, solar

winds

                midg

                             itary

                                          stars

                           the lots the lots the

traveller, collar turned against wind, head tucked

with

           in him

                       self, forget

                                           ful

          of jacks and hop

                                          skotch, pink stick

                                                                           y

ball                    of stoop and sidewalk                 wanders

quandary of schedules          cav

itary maze of clocks and dig

its

        o! isolate lots

        where peb

                             bles co

here con

                   geal co

                                   alesce

     irridescent              less

bleak           mid          night          lots          e

tern            a               lly              de

void of light, sun

shielded, frag

                         rance of rust

ed

          penknives, dis

          carded skatekeys

                                                submerged

          lots, vast

                             sepulchres

                                                   of Dis          dis

                                                   integration          har

        bingers

                        of

                                  cha

                                            os

far far from childscream, cries of red rover, red

light

            ech

                      o of stat

                                       ues at dusk

                      black

                                      ened lamps of scin

tillation          de          tritus          cor

ing                 earth’s          axis          vault

ing

            sky

                      vacums, form

                      ing

                                  quasar-crusts

                                  chunk of bee

                                  tle, cater

                                  pillar

husk

            squoosh in urinesalt, blood

            of small fingers, severed man

             tishead          the lots

             the fro

                             zen child

                             hood lots ooze hood

ed          va          can          cy          of          de

light                                                              limb

o

          of

                   de

                             lir

                                      I

um                                                               over

flow                                 of                          lim

it the

traveller, hunched in becoming, locked in graphs and tables, wanders

waste                                             places

            dreaming re

            covery                                re

                           generation         

                                                    heart’s

                                                     reverie.