I look in the middle; it's the same as the outside. White space - White space, and no place to hide. A peaceful patch of emptiness - I know this much is true: I could turn it any way I liked, and not change the view.
Zero [Lyric Poem]
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this Evening Brown
is well-named; it’s sluggish
in the morning.

thick summer clouds
look as dense as the woods
they float over.
So many miles of coastline,
of rocky coves and outcrops.
Where none can see a straight line,
and water sloshes and slops.
Oh, might one miss a mermaid
hidden among the inlets,
so snug in stone palisade -
a lair of shells and torn nets?
If you say that you've seen one,
I'll not call you a faker.
I rather think it's great fun
to flirt with claims, wiseacre.