Whichstick

The lettuce shorted out
While I swam
Two drumsticks and a bottle of wine
The torrent quicken
I got my whichstick and started beating
Enough to curdle, brought to stir
Not a bat was beating
The lemons silence beyond tears
In torrents of pine sol and wine
All the cleaning and clearing
Above the sodden sky
Coming down drearing
While soaks wake my walk
Waterjackets
Cast amongst the sheens
In that midnight awareness
Of yesterday's happenstance
Correction of daze night
Still buzzing anger
Hornets to light
Drilling new depth
Coaling my fire
Swimming
In these turning ways.

Denis Streeter 1/9/13