on a poem by Ocean Vuong

the day-orb slides cock-
sure as a yolk into a light-

lusty horizon scratched & marred
by Timothy grass, by solitary Jeffrey

pine      its desiccant bark corroded to  
russet as ancient waves slap rock     spitted

sand far below this cliff while behind
a peel of moon peers from clouds

shape & shade of detritus
lobotomy of swollen cumuli

& hills are pewtered in water-
thin white & that feckess moon

tries to lord-verb itself over
distant forests gentled to midnight-

green burned obsidian     shadows celloing
indistinct as a chorus of butterflies