tom taylor - no return

no return

aloof over my head dispels new rumors from
alien departures without proper parentage on
the scale of one to then aforementioned longing
from the back room clears each morning again

and holds your fortunes from distal portions at
houses flung there are no futures any more only
a nagging sense which does not leave intensified
by the dimming light of the centuries from here

into the mooning plain and sentry of the hours
marked on the side of the room with slanted sticks
leaning into the wind and song of the others in their
own rooms far aparted from the kneeling cow of this