Highly Disturbed

What the frock coats of coal crows
hidden shears to leaden leaflets
a white table cloth, a slashed cowslip
The fall of the landscape to crippled cliffs
hand kisses on the backs of dim dead soot
everything takes place in a civilized way
First pupils enlarge to feed on effigy of light
under open shirts never so much Manhattan skyline!
ceiling candlelight in the bottle of childhood to
keep out, Cod's heads are bleeding all over the land.