Two solid blocks
of eighteen thousand contiguous and solid

blocks. The text doubting
the mysterious facilty

of numbers is doubled quickly.
Bicycle thief,

pump-handle-thieves on why we’re not
getting through,

what if from here and there
is more fun?

stopped chasing
forward high

looked forward
absence face

to the absence before

Cindy in the back on
a good day, smoking

and me in a stucco valley,
painted pale pink.

The colors of the the clothesline
on the book’s cover

is the ensnaring fare–
an urge to flee up and over the roof wall

of a pink parking lot.

I stopped chasing the high,
looked forward

to the absence before.