On someone else's place
it seems to him the land
slings distance way out
The yellow legged plovers live at the university and stare down
pale students who dare to walk near them
The population controller
slips into disguise
his charming suit
We are succulents
our cool jade arms open
over clean tables our fine bone
She is effulgent in the dark halls of town.
She is listening but they are hearing.
Her skin is blistering and sharp with sparks.
There are times
when you should listen
to the world