when you force a laugh
and silence pushes back at you
like a wave against a wall

hang up something shiny

when you stride across the room in slippers
draw energy like a black hole
please don’t get too close to me

hang up something noisy

I wonder at the mutation
that brings you into my company

there are wolves at the door, you say,
a bear is knocking and wants to come in

the crows multiply their excuses
and deer lurch and gambol
in opposing directions

hang up a plastic owl

there is black water and blather
and black money flowing

behind your black back
speaking to crows
just outside my door

cawing crosses an ocean,
a generation,
crosses back,

back into this gap 
ecliptic,

that neither sun nor moon can explain