Lou Shafer—
hunky ferrock stills — tightly tome, metallic, and shapeshifting
white theater bars and string black scales swallowing silk in skin
pinching apart an ageless mucous: silent, motionless, anodyne.

plucking from the moon a pliable body covered in brass flowers
creaking in the sun from the sheer grind of water infusing its shell
tearing apart the frozen branches, seeking a cramp in the rain.