from The Unfollowing: 26

Puddings don’t have lungs, melons don’t have riders
Listen—a female seal, a seaport, and a social world
Come day’s end the top of the tree hesitates, pauses, then sweeps on like a
         blackboard eraser to clear the horizon
Sit, Shep, incognito
The lid of the sun is heavy, its lashes blink on the horizon, brushing the curve of
         the sea
So now they want to grant federal coal subsidies
I heard “suspected pipe bomb” as “suspected python”
The first nest empty and deep, at child’s eye level, in a young fir tree, of twigs
Pathos is at the front line of defense against worries as they approach
I remember almost nothing, only that I am in a room with others and we are
         reading through sacks of mail, trying to ferret out spies
She will never believe she’s too old to join a band or make quick vertical moves
         on the playing field to really quiet music—she is that still
Then the sparrow went to sleep in a lumber castle
And so we come to chapter LIX, in which I learn that I have failed
Can you believe this shit

Lyn Hejinian, "26" from The Unfollowing.  Copyright © 2016 by Lyn Hejinian.  Reprinted by permission of Omnidawn Publishing.
Source: The Unfollowing (Omnidawn Publishing, 2016)