Joanna Newsom

“Last week, our picture windowProduced a half-word,Heavy and hollow,Hit by a brown bird.We stood and watched her gape like a rattlesnakeAnd pant and labor over every intake.I said a sort of prayer for some rare grace,Then thought i ought to take her to a higher place.Said, “dog nor vulture nor cat shall toy with you,And though you die, bird, you will have a fine view.”

“the signifieds butt-heads with the signifiersand we all fall down slackjawed to marvel at wordswhile across the sky sheet impossible birdsin a steady illiterate movement homewards.”