of androcles and her molecule was a spare part
not a missive grammar o f denuding sense but her sheep
a leash to hang sphinxes
or a hand on "white" hot stove
she'd never noted

as it wander wayward
her wend of field to bare

in limpid pairs claw gaunter
the saunter

its my handful of down
not your
called to her shelved pixel
as the open tennis tournament made for that continuous poem called dada