Sing silver times, shimmering columns
of light on the wine-dark, temple
to moon-eyed Hecate, the insatiable.

We rolled out on Seven Sisters Road,
two crates of Tyskie empty in my stairwell.

We were talking from the chest, walking backwards
crackling air above our heads like streetlights

But look here, I turned my head
and discovered the Denver Museum
waiting,
nerve, a soft-boned
species hums

He’s a house of cards, a delicately balanced pyramid
held together by hearing aids and dusty bifocals and
wobbling dentures and ageing pacemaker and
shirt with three buttons missing in action and

You became obsessed with nucleated red blood cells when you peeked through an
aperture window at your liquid, viscous nature. You became obsessed with maps

we’re trying to construct a frame for this
‘highly reactive impulsive emotion’
the nurse is looking into it   

By the light of a wolf moon,
my father turns mad.
Anne whispers to a girl in the wind,
and a friend blows into my life.

Squirrels dream of a cougar,
a cougar given permission
to crouch like an assassin
awaiting its prey . . .

Three jackdaws walked widdershins
around the birdfeeding station.