how to speak with the ocean

Why do we invoke this

naked truth

What home for wounded sailors

is on a wheaten prairie

yeasty tide of bread assumed

I sleep in the morning

This pleases the cat

Wild ball of fur and claw

Come nightfall

Heart

So my heart is a broken house

The weather enters

Dampens all the objects

Corners are filled with wind

Clumps of cat hair forget how to purr

And the November sun is as sharp as ice

Where is your hammer or your glance

Where is the suture of your embrace?