Jenny’s steps forget what she’s seen already flowers or cut flowers or already seven o’clock

In our white custard house. Small but on the train, writing

Her poem on today’s menu of blue plate specials and already full, the train whistle, her delta

All waltzing or a bouquet arrives for the chef and waits in the kitchen. How much for each? If they could only remember or still knew

And when fewer cheered and when fewer asked directions and when more leaves rustled and the spelling bee champion came forward

Unlocking the door at last. Dear Evictee, can you wash your hands in the life on the rails? Where do you brush your hair? Are you wiser now

Than you once seemed, painting with oils in a bus terminal or turning green? The sky is preoccupied

With wizards Has it stopped snowing Is the princess in the North Sea? The long and silent

Do-overs, the pre-painting, how I had to have my parts fit on again. For the most part her bateaux bounced off the water and her scarf

Covered her nose. A tugboat hired to pull through the wind and the horse riders arrived at the edge dressed again in green.