A DETERIORATION IN TALKS

                                      A lone green tree standing in a
demolished frontier // The sleeping animal huff of our
own pried-open country // Time will not exonerate us
//  We are half-lit  /  godwit  /  complicit  //  We sigh
ourselves into ever more fashionable pyres / try in vain
to break our animal faces away from all this sudden
immutable damage / coax a language for grief from the
crushed-glass throat of the sea  //  Tranquilizers  //
Tourniquets // Triglycerides // Talismans of holy fear
//  Talismans of holy damage  //  Tear off our tender
buttons  //  Tear off our tender buttons // Tear off our
tender buttons  //  Will we ever find a comfortable
darkness again? // Down the street the corpses of
thousand horses burn like flowers in the stadium //