Angles
The master speaks to a tree.
The professor snoozes. His glasses
slip. The Irish setter looks from one
to the other as if comparing:
one human cross-legged
on the ground, the other
slouched on a bench. Runners flash by;
light tilts against glass towers.
One head on paws. One head
against metal curve. Third head
counting wars. So many.
Needs stones or an abacus.
The professor snores lightly.
Crumbs on his shoes. The dog
licks them up. The master counts
on the trembling tips of branches.
Bad News
Doctors die.
Roofers get rained on.
A leopard springs
through the Jeep’s driver’s window,
into his lap.
Empty lifeboat adrift,
no oars.
Ice breaks
under the skater.
Cats have only one.
Clouds don’t stop bombs.
The lighthouse is dark.
The trail peters out.
Take care, pilgrim.
