Hold better the day to a pig’s spleen
than the heart in a jar

Best to know what a warbler
does while a man yodels

If you touch your heart
it will be too late to go blind

but in the fissures of the curtains
even the blind feel daylight

Pressure when the mind
makes something happen that is already happening

Two Christians having sex
will discover at the core of a thing not present

they have not discovered anything
I stab my eyes out

Without paying for the pleasure I touch myself
in the broken spot at the bottom

How precious things
like the yodel in the fabric where the warbler’s gone