Over the course of lunch
a peregrine falcon dismembers a pigeon
On the window sill I lay a red cloth
winding the chopsticks about with scarlet thread
waiting wanting wantoning
naked nape to mandoline while Edward
succeeds Victoria
while Elisabeth succeeds George
Sated on scraps
Bursting our bounds
Landfalling we carry High John
Seaplanes scooping bellyfuls
All water futile to Mopti, Segu, Timbuktu
Raging archives
Bloodtipped we volley decades
Bossa nova centuries
jujuing mamboing bottle music highlifing rock
hopscotching millennia before sliding to rest
Not just going away into a tenuous frame
Unsaying “change will come”
“This too will pass”
In leaving while Elisabeth is at work
Holding what we hold in parallel
Kniving polite through her nice
imperious love is fugitivity