It’s forged through the trees, laurels from the leaves,

tomorrow we might know what’s best for us but

for now it’s best to leave it be, that lone plea,

your neighbor’s passive-aggressive note, the

not-so-sub subtext: he hates you. A pity

you’ve so much self-regard, sometimes

I listen to the Gottesdienst just to see what

work god gets up to in German. Yesterday

der Pfarrer war die Pfarrerin.

Was it the first time, I wondered,

I had heard a female Stimme

voice the authority of god.

Let us pray the crisper is

keeping everything fresh

even as we decay. A little

love in the back of my skull

alights and still I want to

know, control. Lying prone

I feel fine nyet nyet I keep

painting that one stubborn

fleck on the bedroom wall,

trying to get him; clean.