45*21

you can't even understand the tumbling
the falling of the gloves from the tree
ping pong in a chest of drawers
every idea falls from its follower
scrambling in the whole
the weather changes and the windows cloud
then the face wrinkles into hand soap
a pang in the suit of hearts
they from the flowers a pewter design
the ground is riddled with ants
somehow September followed January
the folding of delicate chairs into peat
spring water pump goes chub chug bump
it is nearly winter again and hard to survive
that which is crystal and now is wind blown
no houses to buffer the sound
clouds bounce around
it is another clowns Christmas
Santa is singing to the dislexics
they are trying to get the sound of "the" as a picture
and send it home as song