NEW SORROWS EVERY DAY the birds flying through my head encounter no obstacle one at a time they approach mountains in the distance cities cluttering fat bottoms of the mountains lights of the cities glaring up at the birds my head arches over them content to show its stars occasionally a piece of it breaks off and passes through the body of a bird I have turned round and round in my head wrecked amongst my nerves and as I just told you we will not escape this though how I can be so sure when there isn't a clash of sunlight on water to guide me and out where the waves make mountains cities of fish fly off into a dark below mimic of dark above and the birds with their caustic cries separate into contentious subflocks and my head divides into its strict echoes with the sure thing lying dead between them I don't know