Economical Movements From Clean Thoughts

Economical movements from clean thoughts.
Everything is folded while I’m wearing it.

You can walk a mile
in this house and never pass a pile.

Sort, sort,
report.

Distant bell like a dripping tap.
Set off with a wrench

in the name of silence.
Wide-open highway lanes and intent.

Game of opposites. When the room spins,
the part of you that’s still is off-center.

Tilted axes:  inclined heads. 
Clouds that pulse over sick beds,

heavy and low, raining last breaths:
sustain me for a well-meant good-bye

that is wholly received, even amplified
in the admiring ears of the last child to arrive,

to arrive and linger, understanding
the love he’d known all along

as a weapon
glowed from this very source

and glows still.
Folded, worn, reborn.

Though part of us is like, Why bother?,
we hold hands and say the Our Father.

Economical movements from clean thoughts.
Words rattle in and around.

Delete,
delete.

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