and this

Sonnet In Fourteen Statements


first it was day then night or the other way around

the arrangement of spaces between steps in the stairs


it was the hour when myth fell into desuetude

the angles at which rooms form


like an umbilical tea bag

lumbago is not a vegetable


not the flavour so much as the odour of romance

the sheet of paper crumpled into a ball


writing congeals

an intention had been misplaced


its feathers ruffled the pigeon left

he posits the position of the preposition


the sentence rose up and bit him on the nose

if there is an equivalent then this is it