underneath the marimba.   Underneath
the free piano of
the bench across
the planet across from that and music, Anna,
Le Corbusier defined architecture as a playful game of volumes under the visible light.
I define architecture as a series of repeated atonal
lorries honking, a physic to the fructivity of the capital waste of time.
It's that time that bleeds. That time that severs by the second. Cutting a minute piece at a time.
& cutting Anna's hair.
Anna's hair on the ground like autumn
mud
unliked and lowly and the building block of homes
of toy candy kitty cats.
of high grasses and nic nacs
clutter defining her life

Angel, Ohio: a VFW hall, a perpetual
onion, unravelling and ensorcelling my eyeball with fumes.
Anna, when you were young
I braided the challah to match your hair.
Your hair. The match. Plattsburg up in flames. Damn you, Caig Ehlo.
Craig Ehlo, moans Anna.  Anna, moans the vibraphone, again and again
So there.