Roll Call

for Bob Cobbing

The useless one kept saying factious,
call me the pilot from the kohl-eyed gates,
and again our thoughts will darken into spot.

Appearing organized, various
for image, inhale hepatic so set
on detail, Catskill yelped the dog
up to the mountain's nib.

This pain, my side, the light grips
the direct curve of a pellet
meant for interim retrieve. Sick,
but not hewn with the wood.

The meadow is primal to the holy
fellaheen. They return to work
under the scud that blows by,
under their fields where inroads fog
the sprung overslept, overthrown.

Scale pan
to level
as a honey locust
from the weight.

A young kipper
hold out
without water
and guilt
to miss.