2 September 2003 | Vol. 3, No. 3
The Birdkeepers
When Lisa falls to Anneke falling in Lisa
songs assimilate an auburn cup:
martins are privy to glass, to burn
further in the quivering arrow.
Lisa calls this the taxi in adolescent
repose, but Anneke is swift to argue
such acorns tumble forward on the asphalt
without knowing Parisian static and the long
twilight grumbling of distant mortar. Home:
only a shadow Anneke demands of inner
virginals near Lisa's quiet axis. Lisa
shak