Below are five poems, the first of which ("Vial") is a revision of a poem I posted on August 1st.

Vial

what it comes in and when

what comes in it is finished

a little glass cylinder with

an end and an opening and a

tiny tiny cork that got lost in

its emptying stands small on

the window sill O’ing O O

O O mOre than just empty

is all O O O O that is O O

left O O O Of it O O O O O

*

POtiOn

O O O O that Peruvian rag

the alpaca O O O who stOOd

fOr it O O beside O O the fire

birds O O O O up O O O up

O O the chimney O O cOpper

goblets' O O O O bellies O O

O O O glOw O O taxidermy's

glass-eyed Owl O O O gOes

hOOOO-hOOO O O a blue

saucer O O O a crust Of pie

*

Genie

SO O O O O O Orange O O O

O O in O O O its O O O O O

furnace O O O O O smOke the

O O O genie O O O calms O O

O O O O O O O O O O O from

the O O O O ceiling O O O O O

O O O O O O O O legless O O

your O O O O O O O O O O O

O O O wish O O O O O O O O

O O O O O O O O O is O O O

*

O

O O O O O O O O O O O O O

O O O O O O O O O O O O O

O O O O O O O O O O O O O

O O O O O O O O O O O O O

O O O O O O O O O O O O O

O O O O O O O O O O O O O

O O O O O O O O O O O O O

O O O O O O O O O O O O O

O O O O O O O O O O O O O

O O O O O O O O O O O O O

*

Cork

like lose a verb but like its noun

found the vial once again corked

rolling between thumb forefinger

passed absently from hand to hand

where it is rolled again and again

the air trapped a thought had or

imagined a fact a fabrication to be

deployed saved but the cork is there

pressed into place designed neither

to fit nor protect only to remain