A Game for Those Abroad at Night
from The Shipwreck Dress
Start with an hour
and circle the village.
Start with a flagpole
at the indigo heart of the square
and circle the village.
Follow a sickle of highway.
Follow one paper route story by story.
Follow a bread truck’s little pillows of air
and circle the village.
Circle the library’s simmering stacks
(there’s no help for you there,
no help for you there).
Circle the duck pond’s panicky flare.
Trail a moon thin or thick
but don’t fall for a fool.
Circle your stagger
then circle the school.
Circle mosquitoes breeding in buckets.
Circle your parents asleep in chairs.
Circle bees trawling the wax museums of heaven.
Circle the honey,
oh, circle the honey.
Circle a wallet’s dream of a gutter.
Circle two silos hungry for summer.
Circle a dish eating waves from the air.
Circle the village.
When you’ve traded your way
through the loop of a locket
and linked the ends of what isn’t there,
as your shadow unfolds again into stairs
dismiss wick and tallow,
rumor and adage.
Hang the circle you’ve circled in air
and kick out the chair,
kick out the chair.
Circle the village.