April first is the start of National Poetry Month
And fools everywhere avoid
It because who wants
To decipher the
Words of
Fools,
Who write
To decipher the
Codes of the heart
And paste together the
Ripped and thinnest membranes of the day?

Hardly anyone who sees the dead wing in the windowpane
Spliced between the storm and screen
Will leave the house while
Her mind stays home
Sticky with
Fools,
Who die
Trapped between worlds
Pranked from their spindled legs
That carried them all the way here
Only to leave the very height of themselves behind.