Brandon Downing, p.1


“…some wondrous treasure has now borne itself in ambulance,
easy-riding, itself into news and shelves and ordinary people
Who just whisper out in tomb songs and white shoes,
Who do not wear coat and tie and seem, instead, a Mystery,
Hanging as heavy onto a place as mystery ever can,
Hanging onto the place, much as William did. These everlasting,
These maw artifacts, who fall… their fluffy hemorrhages… the hairy