Andrew Weatherhead

from TODD

Are the trees at the edge of
the woods proud?

Do they seek recognition?

Providence, a shadow, stress.

The snipers in heaven
must be tired

in their Google

They can’t help it.

—help what?

The flames sink.
The dissonance resonates

painting the target

with the same result.

My head finally
the shape
of a diamond.

I stepped outside
to smoke

so I smoked

and from the porch:
foam foam foam
foam foam.