rain drips from the eaves a vine flowers, seed spreads the chores I perform over & over get dressed brush teeth wash dishes make bed salvage give shelter hide hold a center is of no use adam, then eve — a gender theory deep roots, a strangling vine move along, move along as if it matters I would be pleased not to feel guilty I would rather not leave the chair sat upon, cats upon a third cat glides toward us messenger angel don’t pretend you can throw something away & forget about it anyone who puts a controlling hand on anyone should stop daisy . . . day’s eye the rate of rain dropping from the eaves a poem a net of words thunder, silence, green air a web the rain weaves through