with all the proper paperwork,
the telephone never rings.
a cord wrapped around my wrists.

operational, for a moment
then the pulse falters again.
strangers are picking up my
pieces while i debate a total purge.

i have all the proper paperwork
in another room half the population's
electorate is rattling in my ears
iceland, they say: i don't even wonder why.

craving a violence not our own
only to count the scars on this body.
(diluted and dissolved as they are)

Alice with her hands groping out the windows.
Past the curtains, the good doctor's slovenly gait.
All the proper paperwork, shredded on the desk.

needing fingers, finding nothing
a storm striped tree,
an ideal summer.