in the narrow back yard of sixty-four
can be found a kind of life – and some of it is wild.
a picture frame to step through – a meridian of glass.
it’s really such a simple trick. it imbues this view with…
wet cutlery and laundry lines.
frame within frame over concrete yard.
every word from all my early films,
return. my wrist, my fingers, burn.
there are flamingoes, ore-pink, twist of tines,
with little or no need for a trampoline.