In Another Room I Am Drinking Eggs from a Boot - Frank Stanford

• What if the moon was essence of quinine
• And high heels were a time of day
• The chauffeur is telling the cook
• The antler would pry into ice floes
• Swim with a lamp
• And we'd be shivering in a ditch
• Biting through a black wing
• There would be boats
• There would be a dream country
• The great quiet humming of the soul at night
• The only sound is a shovel
• Clearing a place for a mailbox