Corner Dropping

it’s cold in here open window
not fooling or—
what’s the smell in the unseen

between us, the
dust collecting a rust stench
lends a milky fissure, or

I see you milk thistle later
in the day when
crates are stacked in car and cards are

stacked within relief and the whole
blow of wind
houses an entire forecast I now
smile

but for some find
horrific those with their
home-owner and child-manuals, those
who have what structures had provided and aren’t thinking

of the pillars and their negative takes as of a picture, zero
frames around air are not not frames but of different order, with
another attitude

all are working on their altitude
at any given moment or

not

and just are maintaining, I expect
the garage door will
open anytime soon and he’ll drop
his belongings in the

corner

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