the day will come to a close in a
fan blade bending into a purse and the
wallet in there containing credit card
forks and knives useful for scuba equipment
in the kitchen where a spatula learns to fly and
the refrigerator recites the alphabet
but it’s not midnight
and there are turtles surfacing from the celling above as
algae descend onto the headless
horseshoe crab that beckons in the moans of a
drying black tipped pen
hanging at the rim of a bowel of apples and pears, the cupboard
is closed tonight, a microwave
sign flaps in its doorway, as a
mouse nibbles on its dinner
and distant children are heard giggling in the alley
Orpheus Eye 