Reading? Morning.
Reading morning and a sky like the olive.
Reading the morning in sandals sifting through soot.

She sweated, sweated and swore.
She predicted a total eclipse
as if it were replenishing shade.

With a great scuffle,
the meeting adjourned.
Calm turned to storm.

Loving that man was a way of hating God:
useless, and no sense of privacy.
The fates fell, like cats tumbling