In the region of black amber, quartz
or a feather that scores an open nerve.
The rushling plane, autumn in Mesopotamia.
Some clouds leave specks on the tea caddy.
Some people forget their jewels.
Hail bounces on red pleather.
Region of broken bones, region of taxidermy,
region of energy-savers and of foals.
In these parts, you let the totemic creatures press at your ears,
think of the foals with their trestle-legs.
Those broken legs rode too soon,
those markers of preworld, after the world.
What is fired in the region of smoke signals?
Some tallies are frozen at a million. The chestnuts
forget to split their sides. The bowls are pale
and you spit into their bases. Some regions are best left to die-back.
Region of chimneys, far from the counting houses,
zone of moss and tin. Region that splits its riversides black.